Seconds
by FinnFiona
Summary: Six years after Voldemort's fall, Harry must face a returning threat—this time, alone. How will his friends' lives continue in his absence? With a few trials and surprises, of course. Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, and others. Canon compliant, DH spoilers.
1. June 2nd, 2004

**Author's Note: Well, I finally made the time to get this one started—I think 5 months of mulling is quite enough, don't you? Thanks to everyone for their interest—happy reading!**

Chapter One: June 2nd, 2004

_Beyond happiness or unhappiness, though it is both things, love is intensity; it does not give us eternity but life, that second in which the doors of time and space open just a crack: here is there and now is always._

Octavio Paz

"There, how's… that?" Ginny said with an air of finality.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what "that" was, as he couldn't actually see what Ginny was doing, but he assumed it was the family tiara that she and Hermione had been fiddling with for the last ten minutes, at least. Harry hated that he'd been listening to them—mostly because it meant that he'd been skulking out in the already-crowded hall of the Burrow for that time. It wasn't that he was keen on eavesdropping, but he couldn't afford to run into Ginny just yet.

"Oh," he heard Hermione gasp, "that's perfect." Harry could practically hear her grinning, which she'd been doing non-stop for the past several days—regardless of how many last minute crises she'd had to resolve.

"Good," Ginny said with a sigh, "you look lovely, Hermione."

Harry thought he was probably the only person who could detect the trace of sorrow couched among the brightness in her voice.

"'Fess up, Ginny."

The only person, save Hermione.

"What?" Ginny asked, trying to sound innocent.

"I can't have my maid of honor unhappy," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "now spill."

A few moments passed in which Harry was certain that Hermione was piercing Ginny with one of her no-nonsense stares, which always meant that this was your last chance to volunteer information before she nagged it—lovingly—out of you.

"Oh, all right," Ginny gave in, "but it would be a lot easier if you'd stop grinning like that."

A sound escaped Hermione that, to Harry, sounded dangerously like a giggle, but she promptly extinguished it. "Sorry," she said.

"It's just that…" Ginny began uncertainly. "Well, today… oh, Hermione—this makes me sound horrible!"

"You thought you'd have worn this tiara yourself, by now," Hermione offered softly when Ginny didn't continue. Harry couldn't know that the stricken look that appeared on his own face mirrored Ginny's almost exactly.

"Hermione, I'm sorry—you know I'm nothing but happy for you—I just—" Ginny floundered, and Harry could hear her pacing around the room.

"It's nothing to apologize for, Ginny, honestly," Hermione said, and Harry was glad to hear that her voice sounded perfectly genuine.

Ginny could apparently detect this as well, and plopped dejectedly onto her old bed. "I just don't understand it… we'd been doing so well, you know? But lately he's been so… so… _distant_. And you and Ron—really, Hermione, you two still argue more than Harry and I ever do—how is it that… that… that he doesn't want to marry me?" she finished in a small voice. Harry wished he could run in there and assure her that nothing could be further from the truth. But of course, he couldn't—not yet.

Hermione let out a small sigh as she sank onto the bed beside her friend. It was the type of sigh that told Harry she'd been expecting this conversation for a long time—it was probably why she was willing to have it, even today. "Ron and I," she began, "well, we had a lot more practice at getting it wrong—before you and Harry even got together the first time." This elicited a small snort from Ginny, and Hermione ploughed on, "but you and Harry… you had a lot of things to mend. And now, I think he's just…"

Harry was dying for Hermione to finish that sentence, because he honestly didn't know what he was—what his_ problem_ was. It was true; he and Ginny had had many things to "mend" after the war. They'd begun moving forward again in a relatively short time, but even Harry couldn't fail to notice that he'd hurt her deeply. He'd left her, Hermione had reminded him, whether it was for her own good or not.

That first year had been difficult for so many reasons—so many adjustments to make. But even with Hermione back at school with her, Ginny had still felt left out as Harry and Ron went chasing after the loose ends of Voldemort's reign. And Harry had been so busy and wrapped up in finishing that job that never seemed to end—well, perhaps he had neglected her… a little. So she returned the favor and went off to play for the Harpies. Yet it seemed that this actually helped, and with time, they were working past all of the underlying resentment and bitterness. Ginny eventually joined Harry, Ron and Hermione at Grimmauld Place—at least on the off-season and non-training weekends. Harry didn't need Hermione to tell him that Ginny finally felt included, and he worked even harder at making her feel wanted.

Because Harry did want her—more than anything. He'd never really questioned the idea that he would marry her one day, but for so long they just didn't seem to be on the same roll of parchment. But then, a little over a year ago, he'd woken up one day with Ginny beside him and realized that he couldn't wait any longer to ensure that he'd always wake up the same way.

It was that same day that he'd gone into work and received the news that it had all been for nothing, and all Harry could think was that he was—

"…scared," Hermione finished her thought, jarring Harry out of his reverie.

Scared was never a word he thought he'd use to describe himself. Even at the most terrifying moments of his life, it never quite fit—but now, maybe it did, and he couldn't help feeling like a coward.

"I know," Ginny said quietly. And somehow, inexplicably, Harry thought she did—even though she couldn't possibly know why he was feeling the way he was, he hoped that somehow she understood. He hoped that when he explained it to her, it would somehow all be clear—that everything would be better, for once.

"Well, I'd better go tell everyone that you're ready," Ginny said, and without giving Hermione a chance to respond, she swept out of the room and down the steps. Harry hardly had time to duck out of her way, making sure the invisibility cloak was still draped around him. He watched her go, the weight of the conversation he had overheard and the thoughts it had provoked hanging heavily on his arm as he turned to knock at the door.

Yet before he could do so, a faint pop issued from inside Ginny's old room. Through the crack in the door, which now stood ajar, Harry could see his best mate staring, open-mouthed, at the back of his fiancée who, for her part, was humming contentedly as she stared into the backyard—completely oblivious. It was all Harry could do not to laugh.

"Ron!" Hermione started as she caught sight of his reflection in the window. "You're not supposed to be in here! Ron," she continued, her brow furrowing, "is something wrong?"

"Wrong? N-no," Ron stammered, "you just, you look… beautiful," he finished, as Harry let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

There was that grin again, as Hermione threw herself at Ron's still rather immobile form. Harry was forcibly reminded of the first of many kisses he'd been an unwilling witness to and, after what he felt was a more than suitable grace period, decided this was something he could interrupt. Besides, he needed to talk to them both—it was, after all, lucky that Ron had shown up of his own accord, before Harry would've been forces to find some excuse to pull him away from the last-minute preparations.

"Ahem," Harry coughed, as he nudged the door open.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, with her back to the door, "I didn't see…" she trailed off as she turned around. Though she and Ron were both blushing furiously, they also now appeared distinctly confused.

"Oh, right," Harry said, promptly pulling the cloak from his shoulders. "Erm," he started, not knowing where to begin, "could I have a word?"

The looks of confusion now returned as Harry closed the door behind him and took the seat in front of the vanity.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione was saying, pulling Ron to sit on the bed.

"Sure, mate, but we're a little pressed for time, you understand," Ron joked, but his smile dimmed as he took in the serious expression on Harry's face.

"I know, I'm sorry I've waited until the last minute," Harry began, frustrated that he couldn't have said anything sooner. "Partly—they wouldn't let me, but—well, I'm getting ahead of myself," and Harry sighed. He forced himself to look at his friends—so happy, and always, he thought guiltily, so dedicated to him. Yet watching them sitting there, hand-in-hand, in Ginny's old, sun-filled bedroom, all of the worry and uncertainty in Harry's frazzled brain was replaced with a calm borne of nearly 14 years of friendship.

"You know," Harry started again with a renewed focus, "you two are my oldest friends."

Ron grinned and Hermione smiled warmly at Harry. She reached out and touched his knee with her free hand. "Actually, Harry," she said, "we're all each other's oldest friends."

This redoubled the feeling within Harry that he could only describe as a deep, golden warmth. Yet at the same time, it also marked the return of the dread that had been growing within him at the thought of what he had to tell them.

The immediacy of time pressing down on him, Harry ploughed forward. "I don't think I'd be sitting here today if it weren't for the two of you, but—" Ron started to interject, but Harry held up a hand, "But," he said again, "I have to leave tonight and this time I can't take you with me."

Harry knew it had been quite some time since either of them had come with him, but he hoped that the gravity of this particular situation was evident on his face. "There's been a mounting resurgence of Voldemort supporters over the past year. They're growing in numbers and power and… and in their aims. Every attempt of the Ministry and the Aurors to stop them has failed. So now…" Harry had to pause, as he'd never really admitted to himself that now was, in fact, here. "So now, I've been asked to go undercover and infiltrate one of the cells."

The look on Hermione's face told Harry that she realized how dangerous this would be. Ron's face was impassive, but his eyes were dark, and Harry hated even more that he'd been forced to wait until this day of all days to tell them.

"How long will you be gone?" Hermione asked.

"About eight months or so," Harry replied resignedly.

"Blimey…" Ron muttered.

"Why are you telling us this now?" Hermione questioned.

"I needed you to know the truth… because they're going to make it look like I just ran off—couldn't take the pressure." Silence followed this pronouncement, which was made all the worse by the fact that all three knew that some might not find this hard to believe. The famous Harry Potter had been acting a bit… erratic lately. Harry knew that he was letting the news of this rising threat get to him—but hardly anyone was aware of those reasons for his discomfiture. He therefore was forced to sit by, and wait, and hope that everyone would think that years of stress had finally taken their toll. Maybe they had.

"What about my sister?" Ron finally said quietly, his ears reddening slightly. "What about that ring you bought?"

"You bought a ring?" Hermione exclaimed, momentarily diverted. "You didn't tell me he bought a ring," she continued, hitting Ron on the arm and now turning her attention to Harry, "you've been dragging me to the jeweler at least twice a year after work for the past… oh, past four years, but you don't take me when you actually _buy_ one?" she rushed on, now slapping Harry's own arm.

Ron however, was not deterred. "Well, what about her?"

Harry could feel his temper rising under the accusatory glare—especially because, for once, Harry knew that Ron's avid protection of his only sister was not entirely misplaced. "It was supposed to be you, you know," Harry snapped back, instantly regretting his words. He hadn't actually intended to reveal that piece of information.

Ron, for his part, looked as though a bucket of ice had been dumped over his head. Hermione looked from one to the other, mouth agape.

"But I haven't gone on a mission in years," Ron sputtered. "Not in years!"

"I thought he was only to stay on in a consulting capacity?" Hermione said, eyes wide and voice unnaturally high. "That was the agreement, wasn't it?"

Harry sighed inwardly, regretting more than ever that he was having this conversation—on their wedding day, no less. "Yes, that was the agreement," Harry addressed Hermione, not trusting himself to look at Ron yet—knowing he wouldn't be entirely happy with his explanation. "After all the work Ron did in the beginning on the family ties and where they did and didn't matter—well, that's where a lot of these new connections are drawing from. And, well, Sterdem just wanted Ron to stay… current," Harry finished with a grim smile, silently agreeing with his head of department.

Harry couldn't deny that he missed having his best mate around the office, working on cases with him. Yet after those first two and a half years of reorganization and, really, reinventing the wheel as far as the Aurors were concerned, Ron had had enough. At the time, perhaps, George needed Ron more than Harry did. Yet the Ministry didn't like the idea of losing one of their prize employees—and Harry Potter's partner in crime (and now punishment) since their school years to boot—hence the formal agreement to consult. Which Ron often did, from time to time—albeit usually in the informal capacity of sitting in front of the drawing room fire with Hermione on his lap. It was almost as good as the Gryffindor Common Room. But Harry knew that Ron was much happier working at the joke shop—and, Harry also knew, Ron was quite good at it.

"So… what?" Ron questioned, ears growing red again. "You convinced them not to?"

"I couldn't let you do it," Harry said flatly.

"Oh, you couldn't, could you? Well, I—" Ron was standing now, though Hermione was tugging insistently on his hand, still clenched in her own.

"Listen," Harry interrupted him, "it wasn't that I didn't think you could do it, you _know_ that isn't it. That day—the day that they told me—it was the day you were going to… well, to propose."

Silence, then a small, "Oh," as Ron sunk back down on the bed.

"I couldn't let you do my job for me—especially when everything was going so well for you. You've both given up a lot for my sake. I wasn't about to let that happen again."

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione said softly, reaching out for his hand. She seemed close to tears.

Ron was swallowing a lump in his throat. "We'd do it all again, you know," he choked out. "But I—this is too much—after everything you've always done for me—because don't think that hasn't been the case—no, I can't let you do this—I—" he was speaking quickly now, and Harry cut him off again.

"It's done, mate. We've been preparing all this time—tonight was the latest we could push my… departure, but, well… I guess it's late enough," he finished, gesturing sadly at their dress robes and Hermione's painfully white dress.

"Do they… does Sterdem… know that you're telling us all of this?" Hermione ventured carefully.

At this, Harry squirmed a bit in his seat. "Well, no, not exactly… I've been arguing with him about the logistics of my going undercover for months now. He's convinced that no one should know… But Kingsley came into my office the other day to… smooth things over. He said that if he absolutely _had_ to disclose information, he waited until the last possible moment. He was very pointed on that fact, so… so that's what I'm doing," Harry finished dejectedly, staring at his knees.

"And… and what about Ginny?" Hermione prodded.

Harry looked up at her, having momentarily forgotten that the most difficult conversation still lay ahead. He glanced at Ron, but saw that though his stony expression was back, he at least had the good grace to remain silent for the moment.

"I _am_ going to tell her," Harry said emphatically. "And," he continued, glancing again in Ron's direction, "I'm going to give her the ring."

This made Ron smile, if only for a moment, and Hermione broke into a wide grin—though her eyes retained a trace of sadness.

"I've been meaning to do it for a long time," Harry tried to explain. "I thought I was going to—a good while ago, actually, but that's when I found out about this resurgence, and… and…"

"And it all came crashing down on you again," Hermione supplied, nodding. "It all makes sense now—I—well, we'd," she amended, "we'd been wondering what was going on with you—with both of you."

Even though it wasn't exactly a happy conclusion, Harry noticed the look of satisfaction Hermione still wore whenever she'd solved a particularly challenging puzzle.

"I just, I thought we'd stopped it all for good, you know?" Harry agreed ruefully. "I don't want everyone to be in danger again—but I know I have to do it differently this time… but how could I ask her to—to marry me, especially once I had this mission hanging over my head?" Harry held Ron's gaze this time, and was gratified to see his expression had softened considerably.

"You take too much on yourself, mate—always have," he said, smiling slightly at the look of pride Hermione shot him just then.

Harry smiled as well, "I can't help it," he replied, somewhere between laughter and tears.

Hermione laughed a little then and reached out once more to take Harry's hand. "Thank you for telling us," she said with a smile, "and, you know, we're here if you need anything."

"Thanks," Harry replied, steeling himself for this one, final request. "There is, actually, one thing… I know you've been looking forward to moving into your new flat, but…" Harry hesitated. He berated himself for what must have been the hundredth time for even considering what he was about to ask them to do. How, especially after the speech he'd just given—of which he'd meant every word—how could he ask them to put their lives on hold for him—again?

Hermione searched his eyes for a moment when Harry didn't go on. "We'll look after Ginny, Harry, I promise," she said quietly.

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione in confusion several times before he seemed to cotton on, "Oh, right, well—she is my sister after all. And that house is still bloody creepy when you're there by yourself. I'm sure we can delay moving out a couple of months."

Harry sighed deeply, some of the weight around his heart lifting a little, knowing that Ginny wouldn't be alone while he was gone. And there was no one in the world he would trust to that job more than the two people sitting in front of him. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "Now go get married, why don't you?" he said teasingly, rising to his feet. Sharing a knowing look, Ron and Hermione did the same. Standing in that familiar triangle, there was a small beat before they all found themselves a tight, if momentary, hug. It was in this moment that Ginny found them as she burst, out of breath, into the room.

"_There _you are!" she exclaimed, chinks pink. "We've been looking everywhere! Mum was worried you'd gotten cold feet! Now, off! Off you go!" she directed, shooing Ron and Hermione out the door in a distinctly Molly-esque manner.

"What about Harry?" Ron was asking as he was herded onto the staircase. "Doesn't he need to come down as well?"

"Well of course he does," Ginny answered, not missing a beat, "but I need a word with him first."

"Oh," Hermione said, with a meaningful expression that was, in Harry's opinion, all too transparent.

"He just looks too good in those dress robes," Ginny whispered audibly, with a devilish grin.

"Urgh…" Ron groaned, rolling his eyes and pulling Hermione after him down the stairs.

Harry was now left cornered in his girlfriend's childhood bedroom. He was definitely _not_ ready to have this conversation now—and, honestly, how good could he look in black and green velvet? His heart sank as Ginny pulled him to her by his collar—just a little too forcefully—and pushed him back into a sitting position by the vanity.

"I don't look too good in my dress robes, do I?" he asked hopefully, as Ginny towered over him. He could tell now that she was more than a little piqued about something.

"You look good dear, but no," she said, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Why aren't Ron and Hermione moving out? Why would they have to look after me?"

A tendril of panic began to wrap its way around Harry's chest, wondering how much of their conversation she had overheard. Not that he could exactly be upset—he had, after all, done the same thing to her not fifteen minutes before.

"Are you going somewhere?" she continued, eyes drilling into his.

"I… I am," Harry said cautiously. "And I promise, I fully intend to tell you all about it—but, please, we don't have time right now," he pleaded, gesturing out the window to what he knew was a ceremony on hold.

"Oh, we have time," Ginny insisted, still glowering down at him.

"No, we don't," Harry said, finding it—as he always did—rather hard to be firm when it came to Ginny. Yet he stood and took hold of her shoulders, "I promise, we'll talk later, but we have other duties right now."

Ginny scoffed at the idea of duty, but she let her blustering temper blow away—at least from the surface. "Alright," she agreed. "No weaseling out," she added warningly.

"No weaseling whatsoever," he said, daring to kiss her forehead tenderly. She looked up at him once more, steely-eyed, but ultimately turned and led the way downstairs.

The rest of the wedding passed without any real incident. Harry took his position beside Ron as each of the Weasley brothers made their way up the aisle with the appropriate bridesmaid in tow. Fleur looked radiant as always, and Harry couldn't help but be reminded of that wedding day—hoping that this one would not be so infamously marked in his memory. Luna had agreed to accompany Charlie—so long as Hermione allowed her radish earrings. Harry noticed, however, that she waved spacily at a young man she'd brought with her—Ralph or something, Harry thought. Though, Harry admitted, Luna gave the same wave to Neville, who had somehow nervously agreed to officiate. Harry wasn't too worried, though, he'd seen Hannah Abbott calming him down before they'd gotten started. Audrey had to make a quick stop when the two year old Molly cried out for her Mummy from her perch on her namesake's lap. It was actually quite amusing to watch Percy fight between loving amusement and a desire for order as his daughter desperately grabbed for his robes. George was the last to make his way to the front, grinning from ear to ear—although Harry thought it seemed a bit… forced. But Angelina whispered something in his ear about halfway down the aisle and he looked skyward for a moment before sharing a genuine, knowing smile with Ron—who returned it, but turned a more frightening shade of green, if that was possible.

Harry was saved the necessity of coming up with something to say, however, by Ginny, who reached across the aisle to squeeze Ron's hand and whisper, "Just _think_ of the fireworks, hmm?" Her eyes were glistening as Ron nodded and returned to a more manageable shade of white. Harry caught her eye and tried to smile, but she just looked at him for a long moment before turning her attention forward, to where a six year old Teddy was leading—or perhaps being led—by a preciously poised four year old Victoire. She didn't even bat an eyelash when her younger brother and sister called to her from their seats between their grandparents, though Teddy flashed his hair Weasley red appreciatively. Hermione soon followed, and before Harry knew it, they were all toasting and dancing at the reception. All things considered, it was—in Harry's opinion—fairly uneventful as far as Weasley weddings were concerned. Yet this didn't do much to soften the knot that was growing in his stomach.

As the night wore on, Harry grew more and more anxious. Ginny was avoiding him, he could tell—and, truth be told, he was a little glad. He still had no idea what to say—but he needed to say it, and soon.

He was dancing with Luna, trying not to laugh at some creature that she and Rolf—that was his name—had discovered in New Guinea, when Hermione appeared at his side. "Mind if I cut in?" she addressed Luna.

"Oh, of course not, Hermione," Luna smiled dreamily, "and you do look very pretty, by the way—not a Nargle in sight."

Hermione stared after her for a moment, temporarily dumbfounded, before shaking her head and turning to Harry.

"You do look nice, Hermione," Harry said as they began drifting around the dance floor.

"Thank you," she replied, the grin she'd been wearing earlier doubled in size and seemingly etched permanently into her features. "I think everything went reasonably well, don't you?"

"Only you would evaluate your own wedding the day of," Harry teased.

Hermione pursed her lips in mock-annoyance, but glanced over at where Ron was dancing playfully with a highly amused Victoire. "I'm just glad it finally happened…" she said, almost to herself. Harry felt a pang in his heart as he thought of how much he wanted that same feeling of elation for himself—or, really, for Ginny.

Harry realized that Hermione was now looking at him thoughtfully. "You should go," she said, "go get Ginny and take her home."

Harry considered her for a moment, still wondering at how she could read him so well. "Are you sure?" he asked, though he knew that she was—in fact, she'd probably insist on it.

"Positive," she smiled, "I think we can manage without you."

Harry nodded gratefully and didn't waste another moment.

* * *

"You're going to be gone _how _long?" Ginny demanded, her voice unnaturally calm. Harry had waited until the last possible moment—waiting for her to change out of her bridesmaid's robes, even taking on the pretense of changing into a jumper and shorts himself. But the moment had arrived, and Ginny had listened patiently to the beginning of Harry's explanation—that was, until he had arrived at the eight months part. 

"I wish it didn't have to be so long—but it's going to take awhile to infiltrate their group and work my way up to the real core. Maybe I'll luck out, who knows?" he offered, wishing that he was more optimistic.

"And just _why_ did you take so long to tell me? Planning to leave me high and dry again, eh?"

"That's not fair," Harry said darkly, though he was having a hard time mustering much righteous indignation.

To his surprise, however, Ginny sighed and, for the second time that day, sunk down onto a waiting bed. "I know, I'm sorry… but… I don't know if I can bear to watch you disappear again. I'm not going anywhere—but, well, that's the point, isn't it?" she looked up at him plaintively and he came cautiously to her side.

"I don't want to go. Honestly, I don't. But I'm even more… even more… frightened," he swallowed the word, "of losing you. I won't make the same mistake twice. I'll always try to protect you, but it's not the same this time. This time, I don't have a choice. Besides, I can't let these… people… come back—I can't let it happen again. I won't."

Ginny looked at him carefully. "As mad as it makes me—that _is_ one of the things I love about you," she sighed, pushing his leg playfully—if a little too hard.

Harry smiled, feeling a small morsel of encouragement urge him on. "I know we've had our problems, but I think, I hope," he added, chancing a glance at her, "that we've made a lot of progress."

"We have," she said, "at least, I thought we had… but recently…" she trailed off, looking away from him.

"I know, I haven't exactly been easy to live with," Harry admitted, gratified to see that this at least made her smile a bit. "I wanted to tell you why I was acting that way—not that it excuses it, but at least, I thought, maybe you could make some sense of it. I just couldn't believe that it was all happening again. My instinct was to pull away—" Ginny opened her mouth to interject but he held up his hand, "But I realized," he ploughed on, searching her face, willing her to understand, "I realized that that wasn't the answer—not this time. I know I have no right to expect it, but I need you in my life—I need you to know that I never want to leave you, and that when I have to, I'll always come back. I realized that a long time ago, but with… with this mission over my head, I didn't know how I could say anything knowing that you wouldn't be getting the whole truth. But now, now that you know," he continued, rising from the bed and pulling a small box from his pocket as he knelt down on one knee, "I hope that you will accept this, and know that I will never, ever stop loving you—I don't think I'd even know how."

Ginny stared at him for a few moments, her gaze alternating between the ring and his hopeful, expectant, and all too worried face.

"Are you—are you asking—" she stammered, disbelieving.

"Yes! Oh Merlin, yes," Harry answered quickly, realizing he'd never actually said the words. "Yes," he said again, "Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"

There was another brief moment in which Ginny stared only at him, before she broke into a wide smile and flung her arms around his neck. "I would love to," she breathed, before cupping his face in her hands and kissing him with a passion that even he did not know she possessed.

An hour or so later, Harry found himself laying beside her, breathing heavily, wrapped only in each other's arms and a tangle of sheets. It was then that he finally thought to place the ring on her finger as she smiled up at him. But her smile quickly faded as she seemed to force herself to think clearly.

"I'll only be able to wear this tonight, won't I?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry took in her pained expression and marveled at how she could be so practical, at how she could think of how this would look to his "Harry's finally cracked" cover. "Yes, I suppose so," he agreed sadly, wishing she could show it off to everyone—he wished even more that he could show it off with her.

In eight months, he reminded himself, in eight months he'd be able to explain everything… to everyone.

Ginny rolled over and placed a finger delicately on his cheek. Harry took the opportunity to drink her in, her hair, her eyes, her freckles, her scent… She slipped back into the crook of his arm and buried her face in his side. "Just come back to me again," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry didn't quite trust himself to speak, but he squeezed her tight and stroked her hair back from her face. "I promise," he finally said, letting his voice fade away into the darkness.

He waited until he thought she was asleep to climb carefully out of the bed and quietly gather his things. Making his way downstairs, he wasn't entirely surprised to see a light on in the front room. As he approached the front door, two figures came to stand silhouetted in the fire's glow.

"Well?" came Ron's voice as they stepped into the entryway.

"Well," Harry echoed, "I did it, we're engaged." Even though the enormity of the pending situation was threatening to consume him, Harry felt temporarily weightless at this prospect.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, careful to keep her voice down, "that's wonderful!" She threw her arms around him as Ron clapped him on the back with a broad grin.

"Brilliant mate," he was saying, "brilliant."

"I'm just glad she said yes," Harry said with more than a little honesty.

"Oh, as if there was really any doubt," Hermione scoffed, still beaming.

Once again, the three friends found themselves in that familiar, united arrangement. Yet this time—even though they'd all done much more on their own in the past six years—this departure felt different, almost wrong somehow. Harry fleetingly wished he would have them by his side once more, almost as much as he wished he wasn't leaving the fiery redhead upstairs—again.

"Well," Harry finally mustered, "I'd better be off."

"Right," Ron responded, also breaking out of their collective silence, "Well, come back in one piece, alright?"

"And don't worry about Ginny or anything; just look after yourself, alright?" Hermione added, her brow creasing in worry.

"I'll be fine," Harry said, hoping he was convincing them. "And… thank you," he added with a meaningful look at each of them before he stepped onto the porch and turned on the spot.

­­­­­­­­­­­

* * *

Ron put an arm around Hermione's shoulders as they stared out into the darkness where their best friend had just Disapparated. "So, Mrs. Weasley," he said, and they shared a small smile. Then, seriousness taking hold, he added in a low voice, "Do you think he'll be alright?"

Hermione looked up at him and then back out at the empty street. "I hope so," she said in a small voice, wrapping her own arm around his waist. Ron turned her back inside, closing the door behind them. Wrapping both arms around him now, she hugged him tightly. "I hope so," she said again into his chest.

Ron wished he knew what would happen—he wished he could shake the feeling of foreboding that was creeping into his veins. But when he looked down at the small but strong form in his arms, he couldn't help but smile—mostly in amazement that he had actually married her that day.

Ron wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but much too soon, in his opinion, they heard the sounds of Ginny shuffling around upstairs, the sound of the shower and dresser drawers. Yet still Ron and Hermione remained rooted to their spot until silence fell upon the house once more. It was only then that Hermione looked back at the darkened stairwell.

"We ought to go check on her," she said, and started up the stairs as if there were no counter-argument. Ron, who was following her doubtfully, would have been happy to supply one.

When they reached the landing to Harry and Ginny's room, Ron's misgivings were only increased by the distinct new sounds echoing beyond the door.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said insistently, her hand already on the doorknob.

"Wait," Ron whispered quickly, "wait just a second. What do you want me to do? I mean… I don't… I wouldn't know what to say."

"Sure you will," Hermione maintained, "she's your sister."

"I know, but," he continued, still whispering fervently, "Ginny _never_ cries."

"Don't be silly."

"But it was always George or… or Fred that she went to—not me."

Hermione considered him for a moment with that expression that he both loved and was slightly frightened by.

"Do you know what story Ginny told me when we first got engaged?"

Ron shook his head.

"One of her earliest memories is when she snuck out to the paddock at the Burrow, when she was about three, and tried to get on Bill's broom. She didn't get very far, but she fell, and she skinned both of her knees pretty badly. You—you were only about 4, but you found her there—and when you couldn't carry her back to the house and she was crying so hard because it hurt so much, you just sat with her and rubbed her back until your mum realized you were missing and came and got you both."

"She—she remembers that?" Ron said in disbelief, though the memory impossibly vivid in his own mind.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly, "she does. And do you know what else? She can't remember ever feeling as safe as she did in that moment. You did that Ron, whether you realized it or not." Ron simply stared at her, not knowing what to say. "Now," she continued, more softly, "will you please come in here with me?"

"Okay," Ron nodded, and followed her inside.

"Ginny?" Hermione said quietly in the direction of the huddled, shaking form lying on the bed. Ginny stiffened momentarily, but she didn't make a move to stop them, and Hermione seemed to take this as an invitation to enter further. For once, however, Hermione didn't seem to think talking was the answer. She simply led Ron over to the bed, leaving him standing there helplessly as she went around to the other side and climbed onto the towering four-poster beside her friend. Ron watched as Hermione pulled Ginny's tear-stained face into her lap and lovingly stroked her head, much as their own mother would have done.

But this time, Ron reminded himself, their mother couldn't know the full story. Perhaps it was this that made him realize what he had to do. Moving forward, with a small, encouraging smile from Hermione, Ron perched himself on the edge of the bed behind his sister, and cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. She started at his touch, obviously not having realized that he was in the room, and he instinctively took his hand away. But then she turned to him and all he could see was the pained little girl with the skinned knees and something made him reach out again. Ginny took his hand in both of her own and pulled them to her heart, returning to Hermione's comforting ministrations.

The three remained that way long into the night, until Ginny's breathing was even and Hermione had dozed off against the headboard. But Ron remained awake as the sun's rays peaked over the horizon, illuminating the two young women before him. And though the light was shattering the cold reality of the darkness, it was also struggling to pierce through the heavy, oppressive haze of a new morning.

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me! I promise, the next chapter is already in the works. Hope you're enjoying the story so far—don't forget to leave a review!**


	2. July 2nd, 2004

Chapter 2: July 2nd, 2004

Chapter Two: July 2nd, 2004

_My time has been passed viciously and agreeably; at thirty-one so few years, months, days, hours, or minutes remain that Carpe Diem is not enough. I have been obliged to crop even the seconds-for who can trust to tomorrow? _Lord Byron

Ginny slammed the door behind her, desperately hoping that the action would stir some feeling—any feeling—within her. 

When this did not have the desired effect, she slammed her hand squarely against the doorframe. 

Nothing.

She let out an explosive sigh that seemed to drain the oxygen from her lungs.

Yet still—nothing. She knew she should feel _something_—frightened or excited or angry—_anything_.

But Ginny felt nothing. All she felt was numb.

Her eyes seemed to travel up of their own instinctual accord when her brother's lanky form rounded the corner with a perturbed look on his face and several large rolls of colored paper balanced precariously in his arms. 

"What's all this knocking about for?" he asked with annoyance. "You nearly made me drop this load straight onto the floor."

"What are you doing home so early, anyway?" Ron went on when Ginny didn't answer right away. "I thought you had practice all day."

Ginny watched him as if through a fog. She could hear his annoyance, though his expression was quickly evolving into concern the longer she stared blankly at him. Her brain was struggling to reassert itself, but the numbness… the numbness stole her thoughts away.

"I did," she said softly, making herself form the words. "I did have practice… I—I fainted. Fell off my broom." 

"What?" Ron exclaimed, hurriedly placing his burden clumsily on the floor. "Are you alright?" He was in front of her now, the look of concern now unmistakable. "Ginny?" he said again, reaching out to take her shoulders, bending slightly to look her in the eye.

"I'm fine. Wasn't far. Went to the medi-witch on site—hardly a scratch, though."

Ron's brow knitted momentarily before he nodded. Even in this unfamiliar state, though, Ginny could read her brother well enough to tell his fears weren't the least bit assuaged.

"Well… why don't we, er… go downstairs," he was saying now, carefully leading her from the entrance hall towards the kitchen. "We'll just fix you a cup of tea… that's what Mum'd do…" he muttered. She nodded mutely and followed.

Sitting at the table with the teacup clasped between her hands, Ginny could feel some warmth beginning to seep through her fingers, reinvigorating her body. Yet it hadn't quite reached her mind. It still felt like she was all at once thinking too fast and too slow and she somehow couldn't find a workable velocity.

Ron sat patiently across from her, quietly sipping his own tea. Ginny raised her eyes to meet his, and the worry she found there seemed to give her something to focus on. Slowly, she let herself settle—she couldn't pause on what was really bothering her, not yet. But she could settle her often over-protective older brother. Truth be told, she'd actually been quite surprised at him in the past month, expecting him to be hovering constantly to make sure she was alright with this whole secretive business… with Harry gone. It was, after all, what he'd done when they'd gotten home after the end of her horrifying first year at Hogwarts. She knew he'd done it with the best intentions, and it was never exactly overt, but it had been a bit overbearing.

But he hadn't been that way this time around, not really. It was Hermione who was always after how she was "coping." Ginny tried not to be annoyed, knowing her friend only meant well—and, though she'd never admit it, Ginny knew she probably needed a little checking up on (though just a very little). Ginny hated to get upset, but she had allowed herself that one night. But that was it. Hermione needn't to worry; Ginny was fine, absolutely brilliant, strong as ever—at least that's what she told herself. Perhaps that was why Ron hadn't been nagging her—of all of her family, he was the one who best understood the compulsion, the near physical need to stave off any sign of weakness. At this thought, a rueful smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"Well a smile is better than that look you've had on your face," Ron said, trying to sound lighthearted. His smile faltered, though, as Ginny bit her lip and returned to staring at her tea. She felt she could almost think clearly now—if only...

"Ginny?" Ron asked quietly, "what's _wrong_?" 

Ginny inhaled sharply as the swarm of incomprehensibility threatened to rise up from its tenuous bonds beneath the surface of her mind. No, she wasn't ready for that yet.

"What are _you_ doing home?" she asked instead, trying and failing to sound something close to normal.

Ron frowned, but answered promptly, "Dean Thomas came by to fix up the banners he made for us last year—you know, we're doing that end of term promotion tonight. There's more room here than at the shop for Dean to spread out, so I told him I'd meet him here. You just missed him, actually…" he finished somewhat lamely. "Would you… would you like me to send for Hermione?" he added, anxiousness and defeat etched in his features. 

Without warning, a strange combination of feelings came surging back to Ginny out of the numbness: gratitude and embarrassment. Ron was being quite good to her really, and here she was acting completely ridiculous. She knew she had a reasonable excuse, but this was precisely the type of behavior she loathed. With a sinking feeling of dread she dropped her head into her waiting hands upon the table. At last she muttered the fact that her brain had been simultaneously avoiding and fixating on: "I'm pregnant."

Though her voice had been muffled by the rough-hewn wood, one cautious look at her brother told Ginny that he had understood her perfectly. His mouth was agape in apparent shock and though his face was white, his ears were rapidly taking on their tell-tale red coloring.

"Say something," she begged him, not wanting to be alone with her thoughts at the moment.

"I'll kill him," Ron said slowly, staring somewhere over her shoulder.

"Sorry?"

Ron's eyes snapped back to hers and his voice now rose in volume, "If I could find him, I'd kill him, that—little—" he sputtered, pushing back violently from the table and beginning to pace the room—adding various choice epithets to Harry's name all the while. 

"Are you quite through?" Ginny asked testily as Ron paused in his tirade to take a breath. When his eyes flashed back to her it was almost as if he'd forgotten she was in the room. "I mean, honestly, Ron, as if this is the worse for you," she added, feeling some satisfaction in finally letting some anger boil in her veins. 

The siblings glared at each other for a few minutes before Ron somewhat uncharacteristically crumpled and sunk into his chair. "Right, sorry…" he mumbled, staring intently at his hands. 

Ginny felt her own temper deflating rapidly. "It's—it's alright…"

"It's just—I mean, blimey Ginny—how the bloody hell did this happen?"

Ginny fixed him with a dubious stare and he flushed sheepishly. "Well, of course, yea," he said, "I—well, you know what I mean."

Ginny certainly did. "I couldn't believe it when the medi-witch told me—I told her she must have completely lost her marbles, in fact…"

Silence enveloped the small room for a few minutes before Ron spoke again. "What are you going to do?" 

"What can I do?" Ginny replied as she subconsciously brought her hand to the engagement ring where it hung hidden on a chain under her Quidditch robes, as had become her habit in the past month. 

"Harry will be back, you know—and he'll think it's bloody wicked," Ron said quietly with a small grin. Ginny looked up at him in surprise and furiously fought to keep her eyes from shining with tears.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. He flashed her one of the trademark Weasley grins but squeezed solemnly in return.

"So, what are you going to tell Mum and Dad?" 

Ginny groaned, "I hadn't even gotten that far… Harry's not exactly their favorite subject at the moment." 

"Neither of them think he's actually run off, you know—no matter how much we tell them we don't know anything. George keeps hounding me about it too—he knows I know something."

Sighing again, Ginny returned her head to her hands. "I know—Percy and Bill are doing the same with me. None of them want to believe anything bad about Harry—but all they really see is that he isn't here… I mean, what can we tell them?"

It was a familiar debate—she, Ron and Hermione had been having it in circles for the past month, but now… Ginny was sorely tempted to reveal at least part of the truth. Yet she knew that she couldn't.

"Dad is avoiding the issue as Mum's already a ball of nerves over it… this is going to send her over the edge," Ginny went on, her apprehension growing by the minute.

"You have to tell them. It's not exactly something you'll be able to keep secret."

"Well of course I know that," Ginny snapped, instantly regretting it. "I know," she amended more kindly. "I think… I think I ought to just—get it over with." After all, she thought, it wouldn't be like her not to just tackle a problem head-on.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked incredulously, his instincts towards hefty revelations infinitely more skittish. 

"Yes," Ginny said, hoping she sounded more resolute than she felt. "I'll go now."

She stood from the table, but couldn't quite bring herself to move towards the door.

"Listen," Ron said tentatively, "let me send for Hermione before you go. I'd, er… I'd go with you myself, but George'll hex me straight to St. Mungo's if I try to beg off this promotion tonight."

Ginny hesitated for a moment, her instincts wanting to prove she could do this all by herself. Yet she nodded, and by the time Hermione had hurriedly descended the stairs at Grimmauld Place in response to Ron's urgent Patronus and she had heard the full story, Ginny knew she didn't regret her decision in the slightest—because Hermione's eyes reflected all of the emotions that Ginny had so desperately longed for just an hour before. And when she quickly found herself being drawn into her best friend's arms, Ginny couldn't deny that she felt a little bit better. 

"So…" Ginny said, drawing back, "so you don't mind coming with me?"

"Of course not," Hermione scoffed, "just go change, I'll be right here."

Ginny nodded and went up to her room. She wouldn't let herself look at any of the family pictures that adorned the wall—least of all the picture of her and Harry with her then-newborn niece Victoire that she knew was taunting her from atop her dresser. She dressed quickly, and made her way back downstairs to where Hermione and Ron were conversing quietly in the entryway. 

They stopped talking abruptly when Ginny entered. Ron had the banners neatly rolled up under his arm now, and stepped forward to give Ginny a tight—if one-armed—hug goodbye.

"Good luck with the promotion," Ginny tried to say cheerfully, though she feared that she failed miserably.

"Hey, you can have all my luck today," Ron said with a knowing smile and turned to kiss Hermione goodbye—lingering a bit longer than he might normally do. Flashing them both with a slightly forced grin, he stepped onto the stoop and Disapparated on the spot.

"Alright then," Hermione said, manner-of-fact. "Ready?"

"As ever," Ginny responded, setting her jaw. The two friends stepped outside and—closing the door behind them—Disapparated to the Burrow.

Faced with her childhood home, Ginny felt a rush of apprehension. Chastising herself, however, she swallowed hard and followed Hermione to the door.

When she got inside, though, Ginny found only an empty house to greet her. Glancing at the family clock, she slapped her forehead in annoyance. "I completely forgot—its Mum's market day, she won't be home for another hour. And Dad'll likely be at work at least that long…" she tapered off, biting her lip. 

"Don't beat yourself up about it, you've had a bit on your mind" Hermione said, coming into the den and touching Ginny's arm consolingly, "we'll just wait until they come back." 

Following her friend over to the sofa, Ginny noticed that Hermione was still wearing her work robes, Department of Magical Creatures insignia shining brightly on her lapel. Ginny felt a flash of guilt, realizing that Hermione had dropped everything to be by her side. Ginny felt even guiltier as she remembered how she'd been a bit short with her friend over the past month, when all Hermione had been doing was trying to be supportive—as, Ginny suspected, Harry had expected her to. Looking her squarely in the eye, Ginny took Hermione's hand. "Thank you for being here," she said seriously, with a small smile.

To Ginny's surprise, Hermione's eyes seemed to suddenly shine with tears, but she returned her smile warmly. Before she had a chance to respond, however, they heard a muffled crash from somewhere above them.

The two friends looked at each other, wide-eyed, before quietly drawing their wands and facing the stairs.

Motioning that Ginny should stay where she was, Hermione cast, "_Homenum revelio_," under her breath. Ginny's stomach clenched as the spell revealed two additional people somewhere in the Burrow.

Before they could decide upon any further action, however, a tall, sandy-haired wizard with deep-set features emerged from the staircase, wand held high. Seeing the two young witches before him, however, he started. "What—what are you—" he faltered as his apparent partner emerged behind him.

"Shut up, Perfidy," said the second man, a distinctly menacing, burly wizard with dark hair and dark eyes. His wand was training alternately between Ginny and Hermione now as he advanced slowly to the middle of the room. "You said the whole lot was to be away—the blood-traitor at work and his filthy wife out. But here stand two little _witches_," he said with a snarl.

Ginny could feel her blood boiling and sensed Hermione tensing beside her.

"I've been watching, I swear," the wizard called Perfidy replied hastily, "the, er, the blood-traitor and his wife aren't here, are they? How was I supposed to know these two'd show up?"

"Well that's what the _watching_ is for," the other wizard said with the air of explaining something to a small child, "to notice any patterns… the Dark Lord would never have allowed such fools to work for him…"

Ginny seethed—they'd been watching her house! _Her_ home! Without stopping to think further, she fired off her patented Bat-Bogey hex at the nearest wizard. Not missing a beat, Hermione rounded on the sandy-haired one still standing by the stairs. 

If she had had the time to think about it, Ginny would have been disturbed at how quickly she fell back in step with the rhythms of dueling for her life. But her mind wouldn't let her focus on that. Instead, she found herself locked in flashes of spells as the two pairs slowly worked their way outside. Then, suddenly, a spell just barely grazed her abdomen, searing a gash in her blouse. She looked down in that moment, the weight of realization crashing about her. It was only a second, but her opponent took advantage of the opening. Before she knew it, Ginny's hand was behind her back, her wand was on the ground, and she was being held firmly in his grip with his own wand stuck in her throat.

"Oi!" he called gruffly, breathing heavily. Hermione and the sandy-haired wizard—now nearly at the front gate, revolving around each other in a whirlwind of furious spellwork—stopped short to stare at their respective comrades. "If you try anything," Ginny's captor called in Hermione's direction, "this one dies." Ginny refused to wince as he shoved his wand further into her neck.

"Just do as he says," Ginny called, willing Hermione to let her find a way out of this before they both ended up hurt—or worse.

Hermione looked completely torn. Her wand was still pointed at the heart of this Perfidy wizard, but her eyes were locked on Ginny's. "I—I can't do that," she finally responded, just managing to keep her voice even.

"Yes, you can," Ginny said. "I'll be fine," she added pointedly.

"Ginny—it's—it's not _just_ you that I'm worried about," Hermione said with an equally piercing look. Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat as she unconsciously reached her free hand to her stomach. Ginny silently cursed Hermione's practicality as it was forcing Ginny to recall why—just moments ago—she'd faltered and gotten herself into this predicament. She lowered her hand quickly, but before she did, she could have sworn she saw the sandy-haired wizard gaping at her—but when she looked again his face was unreadable. 

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" her captor was saying warily, apparently suspecting some third-party. 

All of the sudden, there was a loud bang and Ginny's captor crumpled behind her. Ginny whipped around to find him clutching his head where one of Mrs. Weasley's copper pots had apparently just hit him from behind. Realizing that Hermione must have silently summoned it while they were debating, Ginny hurriedly picked up her wand and Stunned him unconscious. 

Turning back to the other invader, Ginny found that he and Hermione were once again dueling about in circles. Seeing Ginny run toward them, firing spells as she went, the sandy-haired man threw up a Shield and turned to look her directly in the eye. Ginny gasped at the intensity of his gaze; it was so familiar—_too_ familiar. She stopped dead in her tracks as he held her in his sight for a fraction of a second more before turning and Disapparating.

Hermione had stopped too, confused and frustrated, but was now running back in Ginny's direction. Yet Ginny could barely register Hermione's questions of concern. Her eyes were still fixed on the spot where the wizard had disappeared. She knew it made no sense—she knew she had no evidence—but at the very core of her being she also knew that man had been Harry. 

**A/N: Thanks for reading—please don't forget to leave a REVIEW! They're an enormous help and, quite honestly, they make my day! **


	3. August 2nd, 2004

**Author's Note: My sincerest apologies for the delay! I did get a bit distracted by a new one-shot, but mostly life has just been incredibly hectic. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this latest installment—please read and review!**

Chapter Three: August 2nd, 2004

_They smile on you—for seconds, _

_They frown on you—for weeks_

Austin Dobson

* * *

"I just don't know why she won't even _try_ to put it out of her mind," Hermione said exasperatedly. "Maybe it was Harry, maybe it wasn't, but it's not doing her any good to analyze it over and over again."

Ron stuck his head into their bedroom, mouth full of toothpaste, "Sthee sthounds lek thoo."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Hermione responded with a sarcastic arch of her eyebrow.

Ron held up a finger and disappeared from the bathroom doorway. "She sounds like you," he repeated, making his way over to their bed.

Hermione mock-scowled in response as she rolled over, turning her back on him. It wasn't that she didn't understand where Ginny was coming from—she felt horribly for what her friend was going through. Truth be told, if Hermione wasn't so worried about Ginny, her mind would have been much more likely to dwell on Harry herself.

"Sorry," Ron said in the voice that told Hermione he was still smirking. "But it's true," he added, snaking his arms around her waist.

"I know," Hermione admitted, silently blessing Ron's decision to work with George full-time. She didn't know what she'd do if she couldn't expect his arms around her every morning. With a small smile, she turned in her husband's embrace to face him.

Ron sighed and his own smile faltered. "I'm worried about her too," he said quietly, pulling Hermione close. "I should have been there…"

Hermione closed her eyes, willing herself not to be frustrated with him. Yet it seemed like Grimmauld Place was the home of endless, circular conversations lately—no matter who she talked to. "You know there's nothing you could have done differently," she said firmly. "And before you even say it—you couldn't have stopped Harry from going on this bloody mission either. You're exactly where you belong."

Ron sighed again, but didn't say anything.

"She was just so… angry with me the other day," Hermione went on, her mind wandering back to her conversation with Ginny just three days previous…

_Hermione had found Ginny sitting in the kitchen, her head resting in her hands, eyes locked on the small, frosted cake in front of her. She didn't move or even look up as Hermione took the seat across from her friend._

"_Ginny, what..." Hermione began cautiously, dreading where she was sure this was going._

"_He's twenty-four today," Ginny said, still not removing her eyes from the flickering candles, now reduced to stumps of puddled wax._

_Hermione sighed, her fears confirmed. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Ginny," Hermione said gently, "it isn't healthy—for you, or for the baby."_

_Ginny's eyes shot up, her features taught. "Don't lecture me, Hermione. If Harry was celebrating his birthday _here_ today instead of with some—some—oh, I don't even know _where_ he is but it's not here and he should be! He should be, alright?!" _

_Hermione didn't say anything when Ginny paused to take a breath—knowing she was far from done, and knowing that Ginny had just been waiting for an excuse to get this off of her chest—again._

"_I know you don't believe me, Hermione, but that _was_ Harry a month ago—and now he knows—_knows_—that I'm pregnant and did he say anything? No! Has he made any effort to contact me? No! Did he even seem to care? NO!"_

_Hermione took in her friend's blazing eyes and forced herself to bite her tongue. She'd discovered that sometimes this was the most successful way to deal with Ginny's temper. Ron might only get angrier, but despite their similarities, Ginny seemed to deflate somewhat in the silence. _

_When Hermione couldn't hold in her own thoughts any longer—and she thought it was relatively safe for her to speak—she let out a deep breath and fixed Ginny with a determined gaze. "You know that that's not true, Ginny. I've told you—I believe you, I do. It may well have been Harry—but he told us that he would be out of contact. That there's nothing that he could do—no matter how much he might want to. And from the look you remember that man having—if it was Harry, well, that sounds like he very much wanted to. But if they were watching the Burrow in the first place, it might not have been safe for him to stop. I've already told you, when we were dueling, he used nothing but defensive spells and one or two relatively harmless hexes. He _has_ to keep up appearances if he's going to bring a stop to this uprising—and Ginny, you know that's what he has to do if you want him to come home. I'd like to think I know Harry pretty well, and I guarantee you this is killing him. But what would hurt him more is the idea of putting you, or any of us, in any danger—which is all he'd be doing by trying to communicate with you," Hermione finished, willing her friend to hear her. They'd gone over this so many times in the past month that it felt like a well-rehearsed monologue._

_Ginny had held Hermione's eyes during this speech, but now she returned her stare to the cake and let out a deep breath. "I know," she said quietly, "and I'm sorry I keep taking it out on you, but it's just… well, it's miserable… I never thought I'd have to have this feeling again—the waiting, the not knowing—not since…" she trailed off, but Hermione knew the time that Ginny was remembering, and reached out tentatively to take her hand._

"_He's coming back, just like last time. He's coming back," Hermione said soothingly, forcing her own worry to remain under the surface. She couldn't give into those thoughts, not if she was to keep Ginny functioning—much less herself…_

"She wasn't really angry with you," Ron was saying, stirring Hermione from her reverie. "Me, on the other hand…" he chuckled morosely. "I thought she was going to hex my head off when I told her I couldn't get back in to interrogate that Kaines bastard from the house. Sterdem let me pull rank once to talk with him, but twice? Fat load of good it did, anyway…"

"It's not your fault he won't talk," Hermione said, remembering Ron's temper when she'd sent for him the day of the attack. If this Kaines could withstand the full force of Ron's patented Weasley fury, then she didn't think the Aurors would have much chance either.

"Humph," was Ron's only response as he rolled away onto his back.

"Well, I'd better be going—I told your mum I'd be there early to help get everything ready," Hermione said brightly, hoping to wipe the worried lines off of both of their faces.

"Ready for what?" Ron said—a little too innocently, Hermione noticed.

"Your sister's baby shower… it's today, don't you remember?"

"Oh, right," he replied indifferently, but the twinkle in his blue eyes was enough to give Hermione pause.

"You and George are doing inventory today, aren't you?" she asked cautiously, as she made her way to the shower.

"Mmhmm…" Ron replied, catching her on her way and planting a kiss on the top of her head. "All day… lots and lots of inventory… better be off before I change my mind," he finished with a grin, leaving Hermione to stand bemused and suspicious in the doorway.

* * *

When Ron arrived outside the shop, it was still dark inside. Letting himself in the door, he lit a few lamps before making his way through the crowded aisles to the back office. Even though they'd expanded into the spaces on either side of the original WWW, Ron was beginning to think that things were getting awfully cramped again. At least they had more office space now—and more room for George and Angelina's flat.

Stepping over the last few boxes, Ron saw that the light in the office was already lit. Pushing the door open, he was unhappily confronted with the sight of his brother in a rather compromised position.

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed in surprise, backing hastily out of the office—tripping over the product crates in the process. "You have a perfectly good room upstairs for that kind of business, you know," he huffed from his new location, sprawled across the floor underneath a pile of joke materials.

Angelina hurried to help him up, apologizing profusely, though Ron could tell she was desperately fighting back laughter. George, for his part, made no effort to be so discreet, and laughed heartily even as he helped to extract Ron from the mess of boxes and fake wands.

"It's your own fault for not knocking first," George said, laughing harder when several wands turned into rubber chickens under Ron's hand as he tried to stand.

"Yea, yea," Ron said grumpily as he swept the dust from his t-shirt and waved his wand to tidy up the mess.

"Well, Hermione's taught you well," Angelina smirked, "you ought to instruct your brother in the value of those cleaning spells."

"Hey!" George replied playfully as he caught her in another swift kiss.

Angelina grinned. "That won't get you out of it forever," she said, as she headed for the door. "I trust you boys have plenty of work to do, and I have a shower to get to," she added as she gathered a rather cumbersome package into her arms.

"Right, right—you saw all of those boxes," George agreed with a broad grin as he held the door for her, leaning over to give her one last kiss. Ron decided to turn away from this one as he made his way, finally, into the office.

"Love you," Ron heard Angelina call as the door swung shut behind her, but his mind was already miles away, remembering the first time he'd been the unwilling witness to one of George and Angelina's snogging sessions...

_It had been about a year after Ron came to work with George full-time… George was, thankfully, doing much better than he had been—but to Ron, the strain of being the only one to see him day-in, day-out had long since started to sap his energies. Yet he wasn't about to complain. It wasn't as though he didn't have help, after all—there was the family, naturally, and George's friends—Lee, of course, and Katie, Angelina, Alicia—even Oliver Wood would drag George out to a pub fairly regularly. _

_Hermione once (or twice, or fifty times) tried to tell Ron that he couldn't hold himself solely responsible for George's well-being, and though he knew she was probably right, he also knew he wasn't going to be able to listen to her. _

_Perhaps it didn't matter, though—by the time he left the Aurors, Ron had already started wondering whether he was any help at all. But he refused to give in. If this was what it took to keep George going, even to this extent, then that was what he was going to do. _

_The months went by, and everyone seemed to think things were looking up—finally. Ron saw it, too, but he just wasn't entirely convinced. Perhaps it was simply that it was harder to see improvement when you were around all of the time, but Ron couldn't ignore those days that very nearly scared him into bolting from the shop. _

_Then Angelina came in one morning—about three years ago now—with their "help wanted" flier in her hand, saying she'd really like a change of pace from Magical Games and Sports. _

_George hired her on the spot._

_It was when Ron found his lunches rearranged so that George and Angelina were on the same break schedule that he started to get suspicious. It was at the same time that he realized he could finally agree with his friends and family that there was definitely a positive change in George's disposition. _

_It wasn't as though George hadn't dated—or tried to date—since… since Fred. But the longest was a series of relatively dismal outings with an old school friend of Verity's. Yet Ron would never believe himself an expert on the subject, so he kept his thoughts about Angelina's cheering influence to himself. _

_Despite his hunch, it was still a bit of a shock to walk in on George and Angelina in the back office that day. Ron had stood rooted to the spot for a full beat before sputtering an apology and trying to escape. But something in George's expression stopped him from turning. Angelina looked between them before squeezing George's hand and ducking out onto the sales floor._

"_Sorry about that…" George said, his one ear a bright red that surely matched Ron's own, as he turned his back on Ron to face the cluttered desk._

_It was the truly remorseful tone of George's voice that finally made Ron speak up. "Sorry?" he asked incredulously. "It's bloody brilliant, mate."_

"_You think so?" George asked timidly._

"_Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"_

"_It's just that… I don't—I don't know if I'm allowed to be… happy," he finished softly, almost too quiet for Ron to hear. For a moment, Ron sincerely wished that his Mum, or Bill—or anyone, really, was there instead of him. It wasn't that he didn't know the answer, but he was certain he'd find a way to muck it up somehow. _

"_Hey," Ron said, deciding that perhaps a simple response would be enough, as long as George would just hear him. "Hey," he said again when George didn't respond, and reached out instinctively to turn his shoulder. George looked back at his younger brother with glassy, reluctant eyes. "I know you're allowed, all right? I'm—I'm sure of it."_

_They held each other's gaze for a moment before George reached out and embraced Ron with bone-crushing gratitude. Ron stood dumbfounded for a moment before returning the gesture—even as George's shoulders began to shake._

_For the first few weeks after that, Ron wasn't entirely sure he'd said the right thing. But as George began to bring Angelina around the Burrow, and George's natural inclination to grins and laughter seemed to be returning now at a nearly exponential rate, Ron thought that maybe—just maybe—he'd finally been some help…_

When George returned to the back room he found Ron sitting in his chair with a distant expression on his face.

"What?" George said, his smile faltering, "You aren't still fussed over before, are you?"

"Erm, sorry, what?" Ron said, puling himself back to the present. "Oh, no—I was just thinking about our plans for the day," he lied, thinking that no matter how many years went by, nor how strange this thought would have seemed to him in his youth, Ron would never tire of seeing his brother smile as often as he did now.

But he wouldn't tell George that, of course.

"Ah, yes," George was saying as he rubbed his hands together with a mischievous glint in his eye. "When are the others getting here?"

"Soon, I should—" Ron started to say, but was cut off by the sound of an insistent knocking at the front door. "Or now," he went on with a grin as they made their way out of the office.

"Alright, alright—we're coming!" George called as the rapping came again. "Hold your hippogriffs!"

"Hold your dragons, you mean?" joked a voice outside.

"Charlie?" Ron exclaimed as he rounded the corner and saw his three oldest brothers behind the glass.

"What are you doing here?" George asked as he opened the door.

"You didn't honestly think you'd get these two _Head Boys_ to go in for this scheme without a little encouragement, did you?" Charlie grinned with mock-disgust as he prodded Bill and Percy in ahead of him.

"Audrey's going to kill me," Percy groaned, protesting as he followed his brothers through the store.

"Don't be silly, Perce, she's got ten times your sense of humor," George teased.

"Oh, I'd say one hundred times, at least," Ron added with a smirk over his shoulder.

"Mum, on the other hand…" Bill said with a smile, though he looked a bit apprehensive himself.

"Not helping yourself, there," Charlie warned playfully.

"It'll be worth it, trust me," George said as he came to stand in front of some unmarked crates. "Now, here's the plan…"

* * *

Hermione, for her part, thought it was much too soon for a baby shower.

"Oh, that's simply adorable, isn't it Ginny?" Molly was saying as Ginny unwrapped yet another gift.

"Yes, Mum, it certainly is. Thank you, Fleur," Ginny responded with a smile, though Hermione saw that it was strained. It had been strained all morning.

Hermione's own smile was plastered on firmly enough, so she let her mind wander as the present-opening continued. She strongly suspected that this shower was as much for Molly as it was for her daughter. Hermione had overheard her and Arthur talking in undertones at family dinner a couple of weeks ago—and Molly seemed determined to celebrate this grandchild as much as any other, no matter how complicated the circumstances.

Thankfully, Molly had agreed to restrict to invitations to family and close friends—at least Fleur, Audrey, Angelina and Andromeda didn't really think that Harry had simply run off, even if they had no idea what exactly was going on. It saved Ginny from any awkward questions—for which Hermione was quite grateful. She was, after all, the only one in the room who knew of the ring that hung around Ginny's neck—or just how much it was truly weighing on her friend.

Ginny was now reaching for the gift that the little Molly was stubbornly clutching to her chest from her perch on Audrey's lap. As Hermione forced herself to focus on the festivities before her, a bright flash outside the window caught the corner of her eye. Yet before she even had a chance to wonder what it had been, a huge explosion rocked the house.

"Ze children!" Fleur cried as she ran out into the garden where her three little ones were playing with Teddy. Andromeda was right on her heels.

Hermione felt her stomach clench as she pulled out her wand and ran outside. The sight that confronted her, however, was not what she had expected.

Fireworks were going off everywhere—encircling the Burrow with color and light in the shape of babies and bottles and prams. Giant Catherine wheels were careening around the garden, alternately emitting sounds of a baby's cry and little peals of laughter.

The women stood dumbfounded for a full beat, though the children were already squealing in their delight at trying to catch the fireworks.

It was Molly who recovered herself first. "Boys!" she yelled.

One by one, not two—as Hermione had expected—but five Weasley sons emerged from behind bushes and trees. They had the decency to try to look shame-faced, but Hermione could see that smirk from a mile off.

There was silence, save for the fireworks—which seemed never to end—for a moment longer as Molly seemed to build up steam. But before she could say anything, Ginny laughed. It wasn't a small laugh either—it was a hearty, bring-tears-to-your eyes guffaw of the like that Hermione had not seen her friend exhibit in months.

Soon everyone else was joining in, and though Molly seemed torn at first, Hermione could tell that her relief in seeing her daughter in high spirits quickly won out. The boys, Hermione saw with a grin, looked quite pleased with themselves.

"Well, alright then," Molly tried to say sternly, though her lip was twitching dangerously, "we're just going to have to make some more food if you lot are going to crash the party. Andromeda, would you give me a hand?"

"Oh, of course," Andromeda replied, trying to control her own laughter as she followed Molly into the house.

"Mum, wait, I'll—" Percy called after his mother, but the rest of his words were drowned out by the nearest Catherine wheel as he, too, entered the house.

"He's hopeless," Charlie laughed as Audrey brought little Molly over to say hello.

As everyone laughed and compared this display to Fred and George's infamous exit from Hogwarts, Hermione caught sight of Teddy. He wasn't chasing after the fireworks like Bill and Fleur's children, but was instead running amongst the adults looking increasingly distressed.

"Teddy?" she said as crouched down in his path, "is something wrong?"

Teddy's little brow furrowed in a thoughtful expression that reminded Hermione very strongly of his father. "Where's Haiwy?" he asked plaintively, reverting to the pronunciation he'd used as a toddler.

"Oh, Teddy, remember—your Grandmamma told you that Harry had to go away for a little while," Hermione said sadly, not liking the look of confusion and hurt in his eyes.

"But Chawlie's here," he said. "He was away, too, Grandmamma said. Why isn't Haiwy not away any more too? Where's Haiwy?!" his voice was starting to rise dangerously now as his eyes welled up. "Doesn't Haiwy want to see me?"

"Of course he wants to see you, Teddy—he just—he can't right now," Hermione hastened to explain, feeling at a complete loss as Teddy continued to cry. Hermione sat there, trying to reach out to him, to calm him down, but he wouldn't let her.

"What seems to be the problem, little man?"

It was George, who had apparently noticed the troubles Hermione was having and walked over. Hermione caught his eye over Teddy's head and—not knowing what else to do—mouthed "Harry." A cloud seemed to pass over George's eyes as he crouched down beside them.

"Did you like the fireworks, Ted?" George asked.

Teddy turned his face in Hermione's grasp to look at George. He nodded, still crying a bit.

"Hey, what's going—" Ron said as he came in search of his wife. He stopped himself, though, when he took in the scene of Hermione holding a teary and red-faced Teddy with George knelt beside them, a serious expression etched across his features. Hermione looked up at Ron with what she hoped was a grateful expression instead of one that betrayed the inadequacy she felt as he came to crouch on Teddy's other side.

"Which was your favorite?" George was saying to Teddy, who hiccoughed and shrugged. "That's alright, you don't have to have a favorite," George went on. "It's awful to miss someone, isn't it Ted?" he continued after a moment. Teddy nodded. "Harry's going to be back soon, though, I promise you. Harry _can_ come back and see you soon." Hermione didn't miss the look that George shared with Ron before he continued, "and until then, you can come visit me and Ron in the shop any time, okay? You can play with all of the new jokes."

"I can?" Teddy asked quietly, hopefully.

"Sure you can," Ron interjected. "And just because Harry's… away… doesn't mean you can't still visit us at Grimmauld Place. The house is dead lonely without you."

Teddy squirmed out of Hermione's arms to look at Ron now, too. "Okay," he said simply, though his smile seemed to be returning.

"Good, it's settled then," George said. "Now let's go and find you a favorite firework before they all go away."

"Go away?!" Teddy cried, "No!" and promptly ran after the nearest floating pram, George in tow.

Hermione stood as they left, wondering why she hadn't thought of any of that. Wasn't she supposed to be the one keeping everyone afloat? Hadn't she always been the source of comfort? And now, suddenly, she couldn't pull herself together long enough to quell the fears of six-year-old boy?

"Hey," Ron said as he put his arms around her, "where'd you go?"

"Sorry," Hermione said distractedly, plastering her smile back on.

"I think the fireworks turned out well, don't you?" Ron said pleasantly. "I hope you're not mad," he added, with a cautious look.

Hermione surveyed the scene around her—particularly where Ginny and Bill were laughing at Dominique and Louis's antics with one of the smaller Catherine wheels. Hermione found her preoccupied smile quickly becoming genuine. "I'm not mad," she said, returning his twinkling gaze. "You did well," she added with a kiss. She just wished she felt that she had, too.


	4. September 2nd, 2004

**Author's Note: So I **_**finally**_** got this chapter finished—sorry it's taken so long, but it gave me a world of trouble. On the plus-side (at least I hope it's a plus-side), it's a nice long installment. Also, just to clear up some confusion, each chapter takes place exactly one month apart. At any rate, I hope you enjoy—please read and **_**review**_**!**

Chapter Four: September 2nd, 2004

_A hundredth of a second here, a hundredth of a second there -- even if you put them end to end, they still only add up to one, two, perhaps three seconds, snatched from eternity. _Robert Doisneau

* * *

"Ron…! Ron!"

"What?" Ron said irritably as he stuck his head through the office doorway to find his wife's head in the green flames of the fireplace.

Hermione simply arched her disembodied eyebrow in response.

"Sorry," Ron said sincerely as he knelt down on the hearth, "but it's a complete zoo in here today—literally. Owls every other minute, it seems."

"Orders from Hogwarts already? It's only the second day of term!"

Ron smirked, "they learn fast. At least it's good for business. But it seems that Angelina's come down with whatever Aiden and Melinda have, so it's just George and me to handle things today. And between you and me, he's looking a bit peaky as well."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "You're not going to like what I have to say, then…"

Now it was Ron's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Well," Hermione continued, biting her lip, "can you go get Teddy for his visit today? I know I said I would, but we've only just received clearance for an emergency extraction of the elf at the Lorhan estate, and I don't know how long it will take…"

"They're letting you go in? After all this time?" Ron said, surprised.

"Well it seems they've implicated him in this new… new—oh, I don't know what to call them...!" Hermione said, her voice rising slightly. "I just—I don't want to call them Death Eaters—there's not supposed to _be_ Death Eaters anymore, there's not supposed to be these rumors again, not supposed to be unexplained Muggle deaths…" she trailed off miserably.

"Hey," Ron said softly, hating to see her so upset. "They are _not_ going to get that far, okay? They're not nearly as organized yet. And besides," he continued in an undertone, "Harry's out there to stop them—who else would you trust?"

Hermione's hand reached out of the flames to cup his cheek as she pulled her to him. "I love you so much," she whispered as her lips brushed against his.

"Oi, Ron! What in the name of Godric is taking you so long back there?" George's voice carried from the front of the store a few moments later, pulling Ron and Hermione apart.

"In a minute!" Ron shouted back, his freckles indistinct on his flushed cheeks. "So you can't get Teddy, then?" he went on, looking back to Hermione.

"No, I'm sorry—I know you're completely swamped…"

"Can't Ginny get him?"

"She has her appointment at St. Mungo's today, remember? You know how long they keep her in that blasted waiting room."

Ron sighed, "that's fine then, I'll just floo Andromeda and tell her I'll be a few minutes late."

"Alright," Hermione said gratefully, "see you at home?"

"See you then," he said. "And Hermione," he called her back, before he could stop himself, "be careful at the Lorhans'."

"I will," she said quietly, "and thanks again for getting Teddy," she added as she pulled out of the fire.

Ron stood and brushed himself off as he made his way back to the front counter where George was tying the latest package to a waiting owl.

"We are not ready to have kids…" Ron muttered to himself as he joined his brother.

"Sorry?" George looked at him quizzically. "I don't want any kids."

"Me and Hermione, you git," Ron said as he playfully swatted the order forms on George's head.

"You've been married—what? Three months?"

"To the day," Ron said, unable to hide a smile.

"So isn't it a bit soon…?"

"I dunno… Hermione's always talked about kids…" Ron said noncommittally, though he privately noted she hadn't brought it up recently. "Besides," he went on, "it's not as though I'm not usually keen on the idea."

"So what's changed your mind?" George asked, genuinely puzzled by his little brother—not that that was an entirely unfamiliar feeling.

"We can't even make time to pick up my best mate's godson, for Merlin's sake!" Ron burst out. "Sorry," he mumbled when George took a step back, "I'm not losing my temper, I promise. It's just—well, if we can't even manage a weekend with Teddy, how are we supposed to have kids of our own?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, little brother."

"I know, I know…" Ron said morosely, turning back to the orders.

"Why don't you bring Teddy by the shop tomorrow? He likes being around here, and it's less pressure on you and Hermione to look after him."

"I'm not sure Hermione would see it that way—a six year old isn't exactly harmless in a joke shop. Besides, she and Ginny are taking him to a Harpies' game. Harry always took him to Ginny's games when she was still playing…"

"Oh he did, did he?" George said, his eyes darkening. "Not going to be around any time soon to do it himself?"

"George, don't start," Ron sighed, berating himself for opening the door to another round of questions. "I've told you, I don't know anything about him," he fibbed. Not only was it annoying to go around in the same circles again and again, it was getting harder and harder to lie to George.

"I just don't think it's fair that you should be juggling all of this—Teddy, those mad sods at the Burrow, _Ginny_," George finished pointedly.

"George, you know Harry…" Ron said, willing himself not to rise to the bait.

"I thought I did," George said bitterly, "I'd like to think I still do—and this isn't like him. Something's going on Ron, why won't you just tell me?"

Ron looked at his brother—for all this bluster, Ron knew George was just concerned, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. "I'd better go let Andromeda know I'll be late," Ron finally said, already walking away. He could feel George watching him all the way to the door until he slammed it behind him and sunk down to the floor. No matter what he'd said to Hermione, he didn't think he could deal with this much longer—the lying, the worry, the threats. He'd thought that part of their lives was behind them.

Arranging to get Teddy was the least of their problems, Ron thought miserably as he pulled himself up and over to the grate. But it was the only one he could handle right now…

* * *

"Thanks for understanding, Andromeda," Ron said with a smile, "and I'm looking forward to the tea and biscuits, I'm starving."

"You're _always_ starving," Teddy laughed from his place on his grandmother's lap.

"Did Hermione teach you that?" Ron said with a chuckle.

"No, Ginny," Teddy said with a mischievous smile.

Ron's eyes narrowed, "and just what else did she teach you?"

Teddy simply giggled and stuck out his tongue before running off. Ron and Andromeda exchanged a look before laughing as well.

"Don't worry about the time, Ron," Andromeda said with a smile, "he's just excited to stay with you all this weekend."

"We are too," Ron said, thinking it really would be nice to have a child's cheerfulness in Grimmauld Place, as the house had been especially somber lately. "I should be there a bit after 6."

"Take your time," Andromeda smiled again. "Now I'd really better go see what Teddy's gotten himself into," she added, glancing over her shoulder.

"You do that," Ron laughed and pulled himself out of the flames.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. There weren't too many customers, but there were still so many orders to fill that Ron and George didn't talk much besides the "pass the Puking Pastilles" and "do you think it's safe to ship these fireworks with the Flaming Fudge Bowler?" It was probably just as well, Ron thought, not wanting a repeat of their earlier conversation.

It was seven o'clock before Ron was able to leave the shop. He was more than a little annoyed that he'd agreed to institute the next-day owl option in the new order forms.

Hurrying out of Diagon Alley, Ron immediately Apparated into the backyard of Andromeda and Teddy's modest home. He breathed in the crisp air of the countryside, where they'd moved to avoid the reporters in the weeks and months after the final battle. He didn't think anything of the backdoor being slightly ajar—Teddy was always leaving it open when he came out back to ride his first real broomstick that Harry had bought him last Christmas.

Sticking his head inside, he called out, "I'm sorry I'm late Andromeda, the orders took forever."

"Andromeda?" he called again when she didn't answer. Even more strange, Teddy hadn't run to envelop his long legs in a bone-crushing hug—something of a ritual for them. "Teddy? Are you here?" he called, as he pushed the door open the rest of the way, frowning. Without even thinking about it, he pulled his wand out as he went, trying to ignore all of the little hairs that were sticking up on the back of his neck.

Inching his way into the kitchen, Ron heard a muffled noise coming from the family room ahead. He cautiously approached the doorway and peered through.

The sight which met his eyes arrested him with the full force of a body-bind curse.

Andromeda was standing with her wand aloft, her face contorted in a manner that forcibly reminded Ron of her sister—a resemblance he generally did his best to ignore. Her wand was aimed at the heart of a tall, thin man who had his own wand jabbed into the neck of a little boy with frightened gray eyes.

As if this wasn't enough to back Andromeda into a corner, Ron quickly counted at least fifteen other men crowded into the room, all with their wands trained directly on her.

Ron allowed himself a few more moments of internal panic, which quickly turned into a fierce anger and protectiveness that felt all too familiar. His brain worked furiously as he let his Auror instincts—not to mention the seven years of "training" before that—take over, forming all the strategy he could in thirty seconds. He knew the odds were against him, but there was no way he could leave now, not when there was no one else to help them—he couldn't even send a Patronus for reinforcements without drawing attention.

Ron knew they were waiting for him—but they didn't seem to want to go looking for the newcomer, apparently preferring to hope he'd give up and leave. Taking advantage of this miscalculation, he positioned himself so that he had a clear shot into the room.

A quick nonverbal Stun felled the man holding Teddy. The others in the room looked around, surprised, for a split-second before turning to fire a cascade of hexes and curses in Ron's direction.

Thankfully, Andromeda did just as Ron hoped and took this opportunity to take the offensive. The intruders had also momentarily forgotten Teddy, which Ron had not even quite dared to expect. Taking advantage of this, however, he threw up a shield charm and ran into the fray, shouting, "Hide, Teddy! HIDE!"

Ron watched long enough to see the little boy dash off before turning his full attention to the attackers. There were so many of them that Ron hardly had time to think as he took on one after another, often several at a time. He was dimly aware of Andromeda fighting furiously along the opposite wall. There were a few bodies on the floor already, but Ron honestly didn't have much hope of them holding out much longer.

With every step, every spell, Ron's blood boiled hotter. He'd heard the calls of "Excellent! Two blood traitors for one!" and "Isn't he the one that's married to the Mudblood?" But it wasn't until he heard "Oi! Where'd that spawn of the half-breeds get off too?" that his blood ran cold.

Ron and Andromeda locked eyes across the room. He'd never seen someone look so scared and so determined at the same time. Yet they kept fighting—what else could they do but hope Teddy had hidden himself well? There were still far too many of these men to do anything else.

Then Ron saw him, crouching behind a large curio cabinet in the far corner. With a sinking feeling, he saw that the tall man from earlier—apparently Ennervated by one of his comrades—also caught sight of the small mop of dusty brown hair.

"Here he is mates—I've got 'im now!" Ron heard the man say through the ringing in his ears. Ron felt a new energy surge inside him as he feverishly tried to fight his way to the other side of the room.

But Ron just couldn't seem to get there fast enough. The man was already raising his wand, crying triumphantly, "Let this be marked as the beginning of the new purge—_we shall cleanse the Wizarding World again!_"

"NO!!"

Ron hadn't even seen Andromeda moving through the sea of spells from the other direction. But Ron's eyes were glued to her frantic ones as she threw herself in front of her grandson. When her dark irises reflected the tell-tale flash of green, he knew she was gone.

Not trusting himself to look at her crumpled form on the floor, Ron used all his strength to push the rest of the way forward. Haphazardly slashing his wand in the tall man's direction, he reached forward to pull the shaking Teddy behind him. Ron's own heart was constricting dangerously—and he knew full well it wasn't just because he was out of breath from the endless duels.

His adversary was clutching at a long gash across his cheek, but Ron only had time to register the man's wicked grin as he felt himself being thrust backward.

Sailing through the air, Ron saw, rather than felt, the wall crumble around him as he and Teddy—whose hand was still tight in his—went flying into the yard.

Knowing he wouldn't be any good with his head swimming as it was—and not even knowing if his bones would support him—Ron quickly decided to feign unconsciousness.

"I think we've got 'em," he heard the man say from the house, "let's see to our own…" his voice faded as he turned back to the shattered room.

Ron lay there for a moment, trying to assess his injuries without moving. Daring to look over at Teddy, he saw that the boy was out cold, and his breathing was shallow. But at least, Ron thought, he was still breathing.

It was then that he heard a faint "pop" at his shoulder. Taken by surprise, he spun on the ground as quickly as his aching body would let him to shield Teddy, raising his wand in front of him.

"Ron!" came the surprised, but whispered exclamation from the tall, blond wizard in front of him. "I'm too late," he added dismally, taking in the scene in the house behind him.

"I will hex you into oblivion before I let you join your friends," Ron found his voice, cursing its shakiness.

"But, Ron, I—" the man was saying, moving to crouch down in front of him.

"Don't come any closer," Ron warned, desperately trying to figure a way that he could stand and Apparate himself and Teddy to safety.

"Ron, it's me—it's Harry," the man insisted in a low voice, lowering his wand.

"Yea, _right_," Ron said, though a small doubt had surfaced in his mind—this man had just lowered his wand after all… "How do I know it's you?" he whispered cautiously, hoping they hadn't already attracted the attention of the men still moving about in the house.

"Ron," the man said seriously, "do you want me to tell Hermione about _12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_?"

Ron considered this for a moment—but only a moment. He found he was unable to stop a wide grin from spreading across his features at being reunited with his best mate. "Harry—I—," he stuttered, his face falling as his mind came back to reality. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I just found out that they'd been planning an attack—the first on wizards—and then I found out where—I hadn't gotten in deep enough—I didn't know—I—"

"Listen to me," Ron interjected as firmly as he could in an undertone, "you would've stopped them if you could."

"But I should've—"

"No," Ron interrupted again.

Harry looked around Ron to Teddy's still form. Ginny was right, Ron thought, there was something of Harry behind those unfamiliar eyes—but it was still bloody disturbing.

"Andromeda?" Harry said weakly, looking back toward the house.

Ron simply shook his head somberly, not trusting his voice.

Harry bit his lip, and the two friends grasped each other's shoulder before voices carrying through the gaping hole in the façade stirred them to the present.

"They're coming out to find you," Harry said, his voice betraying a hint of fear.

"To finish us off, more like," Ron said darkly.

Harry grimaced in agreement. "Let's get you two out of here," he said, standing and offering Ron his hand.

"Perfidy?" came a puzzled call from the house. "You aren't supposed to be here… Oi! Lorhan! Perfidy's outside!"

Ron cursed under his breath as he let Harry pull him to his feet. He hoisted Teddy's limp form into his arms, swaying dangerously as his throbbing back struggled to support the extra weight.

"Go now, Ron," Harry muttered under his breath.

"I'm not leaving without you!" Ron hissed.

"They know I'm here now—there's no helping it. I'll hold them off for you. I have to stay—I have to finish this."

"There'll be another way," Ron tried to insist, "you can get back in."

"No," Harry said, his eyes—or Perfidy's eyes—flashing dangerously. "I was so close—and I can't let something like—like _this_—happen to anyone else."

"Harry, I can't let—"

"_Yes, you can_," Harry cut him off, "besides, you have to get Teddy to safety—I refuse to be the reason that he's—that he's…" he trailed off, eyes pleading with Ron to understand.

Ron looked down at the battered child and knew he couldn't argue.

Even if he'd wanted to, the tall man was advancing on them. "What are you doing here Perfidy?" the man practically spat. "And what is that traitor doing standing behind you?"

"Ron, go!" Harry was now saying urgently.

"I _said_, what are you doing here?" the man continued, raising his wand. "_Answer me, Perfidy!_"

"Ron!" Harry said again, turning back to his best friend, who still stood rooted to the spot. Then he returned his attention to his apparent boss. "Headquarters said you were a man short," Harry spun wildly, "I thought I could help…"

"Don't do anything stupid, Harry," Ron said in an undertone, willing him to understand that Ron wanted—needed—the next time they met to be under better circumstances.

"Never," Harry said, casting a small grin over his shoulder that put Ron in mind of their schooldays—wrong face or not. His face grew somber, however, at Ron's earnest look, and he nodded slightly. "And tell Ginny," he added hurriedly, "tell her I love her."

Ron nodded and readjusted Teddy in his arms, taking a deep breath in the hopes of not Splinching them both.

"Perfidy, I swear, if you don't stop lying to me—" the man said again, drawing perilously close.

It was now or never, Ron thought as Harry turned back again, trying to insist that it wasn't what it looked like.

As Ron turned, the crushing vastness of Apparition couldn't prevent the call of _Crucio!_ from reaching his ears.

Ron and Teddy reappeared in the lobby of St. Mungo's. Ron felt his shoulders sag as the energy it took his protesting body to get them there flooded out of him. His vision was blurring as their arrival caused those around them to scurry into action. He couldn't even protest as the Healers took Teddy from his arms, quickly applying their ministrations.

Someone was asking him what had happened, but Ron couldn't even move his head to look at them. Somewhere his brain registered a sticky wetness on the back of his neck. Raising his hand to his spinning head, he felt the same strange tacky substance on his fingers. Bringing his hand back in front of his eyes he registered the deep, red color with some confusion.

Everyone was still in a flurry of action around him—it was really quite dizzying, Ron mused blearily. But they seemed focused on Teddy… _Yes_, he thought, _help Teddy_—even as Ron's own legs gave way beneath him. He vaguely felt the crack reverberate through his spine as his knees hit the floor.

And then everything went black.

* * *

If pressed, Ginny could admit that she had a fast temper. But really, after being made to wait _three bloody hours_ for a simple check-up… Well, she didn't feel the least bit guilty about chewing out the Waiting Witch with the choice inclusion of some of her brothers' favorite swears.

Still fuming, Ginny almost let another string of curses fly as she was nearly run over by the self-levitating stretcher barreling down the hall, surrounded by Healers. Quickly stepping aside, Ginny caught a brief glimpse of the small, unconscious form. But no, she thought, that couldn't be who she thought it was. She was just on edge, that was all.

Shaking her head, she took the last few steps to the main reception area. Pushing the doors open, her eyes immediately locked on a shock of red hair so much like her own.

"Ron…?" she said, to no one in particular. Her voice came out as nothing more than a shocked whisper, and she found her legs wouldn't move. The look in her brother's eyes, but the fact that he obviously wasn't seeing her at all scared her more than anything had in years. And if Ron was here, that meant that that really could have been…

"No…!" Ginny choked, finding her feet carrying her forward as Ron sank to the ground. She was there to catch him as his eyes rolled back.

"Help me!" she shouted to the room at large—most of the people were too distracted by the commotion that had surrounded Teddy to notice who had brought him.

Several Healers turned at her call and rushed to their side. Pulling Ron from her arms onto another stretcher, one Healer apparently noticed the family resemblance.

"This is your brother, miss?" he was saying.

"Yes—yes he…" Ginny faltered, mind reeling. "The boy—was there a little boy that was with him? Where is he?"

The Healer frowned slightly as they made their way quickly after Ron's stretcher. "Is he your brother as well?"

"No, he's—he's my godson," Ginny lied quickly.

The Healer didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded as they reached a new set of doors. "We're doing all that we can for both of them, but you'll have to wait out here."

"But I—" Ginny started to protest, struggling to see past the Healer into the room beyond where Medi-wizards and witches were running back and forth.

"I suggest you contact your family, and the boy's parents—we'll tell you as soon as we have any news," the Healer said firmly, turning to enter the room himself. "You don't know what happened to them, do you?" he asked, as an afterthought.

"No…" Ginny answered, her stomach clenching. The Healer apparently had nothing more to say, for he turned and shut the door resolutely in Ginny's face.

A witch Ginny hadn't noticed before was now steering her towards another waiting room, saying something about who should be notified.

"Andromeda!" Ginny started, turning to the witch for the first time. "Did anyone else come in with them? An older woman—black hair?"

"No, dear," the witch frowned.

Ginny's pace quickened. Making her way to the row of Floo Booths, Ginny found her hands shaking as the threw the powder into the flames. Sticking her head in the small opening, she emerged in a wreck of a room. Ginny audibly gasped as she took in the devastation, and almost tried to emerge the rest of the way into the room before she remembered that she was restricted by the size of the grate she was calling from.

Ginny called for Andromeda a few times, but didn't really expect to receive an answer. The house was eerily quiet—and besides, she knew Andromeda never would have allowed Teddy out of her sight if he was hurt.

Pulling her head back into the bustle of St. Mungo's, Ginny realized her whole body was shaking now. Yet she refused to give into those chills. Her mind still in emergency mode, she threw another batch of powder into the flames, shouting for the Ministry of Magic.

The operator that greeted Ginny took one look at her face and immediately patched her through to her request of the Auror's office. Telling them everything she knew—which was very little (much to Ginny's frustration)—the Auror she spoke to promised to look into it straight-away.

Out of the fire once more, Ginny braced herself for the next call she had to make. When she called at Grimmauld Place, however, she was met only by Kreacher, who said no one had been home yet.

"Doesn't Miss want some of the nice dinner that Kreacher has prepared?" he called after her, but Ginny was already pulling away.

Not wanting to waste another moment, Ginny whipped out her wand and sent her Patronus to Hermione. She knew "Come to St. Mungo's immediately," was probably an unfair way to get Hermione's attention under the circumstances, but it was all she could manage.

With an explosive sigh, Ginny mentally prepared herself for her last call.

"Mum?" she called tentatively once her head was through the grate. She almost didn't want her mother to hear her—because then she was going to have to explain that one of her children was hurt again… maybe worse. "Mum!" she called again, with more strength. "Dad!"

Her father came walking into the room and knelt down in front of the fireplace. He took one look at his daughter's face before his brow knitted with worry. "Ginny, where are you?" he asked seriously.

Looking at her father's concerned eyes drained all of the remaining bravery from Ginny's veins. Her lip quivered as she answered, "I'm at St. Mungo's… Dad, I'm scared."

"It's going to be okay," Arthur said, "just tell me what happened."

"I don't know!" Ginny cried, eyes watering now. "I was just here—and then there was Teddy—and, and Ron—and I don't know—"

"Shh," Arthur soothed, though he had gone pale, "Shh, everything is fine. I'll get your Mum and we'll be right there. We'll call the rest of the family, too. We'll be right there, alright Ginny? Ginny?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer, lest she lose control completely. So Ginny merely nodded her thanks and resigned herself to waiting in St. Mungo's.

Turning back to the waiting room, Ginny walked towards a chair without really looking where she was going. As a result, she was almost knocked over for the second time that day as a group of harassed-looking Healers made their way towards those ominous double doors. They were being followed by a man in Auror's robes—shooting off questions and demands as he went.

Ginny realized with a start that she recognized this man—he was Harry's boss. She tried to catch a glimpse of the stretcher before they disappeared behind the doors, but all she saw was a sandy-blond head before they swung shut.

If her heart was already in her stomach, now it was firmly in her feet. Because if that dusty hair belonged to the man she was still so certain Harry was impersonating…

"Oh, Godric," Ginny breathed, as she sunk into a waiting seat, unconsciously clutching her abdomen.

"Ginny?" came a worried voice from behind her. Hermione was crouching down in front of her now, face drawn. "Ginny? What happened? Is something wrong with the baby?"

Ginny looked at her friend, utterly confused. What was Hermione on about? But no, Ginny thought, remembering her urgent but unspecific Patronus, Hermione had no idea what had happened. No idea what she would find when she got here.

"Oh, Hermione…" Ginny said sympathetically.

"Ginny—Ginny tell me what happened," Hermione said, struggling to keep her voice even.

"Hermione—I—oh, bloody… okay, it's—it's Ron."

* * *

Ginny was still sitting in that chair hours later when the waiting room was considerably quieter. Her own family—usually so loud that you'd be hard-pressed to hear yourself think—was completely silent.

Her mother's knuckles hadn't grown any less white since they got there, even when the Healer told them that both Ron and Teddy were stable and resting. Never mind that they couldn't see them yet—the Healers seemed to think that this news should make them all feel much better. Ginny oh so respectfully disagreed.

This news was enough, at least, to convince Fleur and Audrey to take the children home to bed. It was late, after all, and Victoire hadn't stopped crying since they'd arrived.

When Fleur had sent for Bill two hours after that, saying that she still couldn't calm their eldest daughter, Arthur had insisted that Bill go back to Shell Cottage. Ginny knew if it had been anyone other than one of his children, it would have taken a lot longer to convince Bill that it really was alright to go.

It wasn't much longer before Percy got an urgent call from the Ministry, insisting that he come in to work. He'd argued, but none of them could ignore the rumors swirling around the hospital. If things were stirring, then it was all-hands-on-deck.

Ginny watched as Angelina wrote a quick update to Charlie, being the only one who seemed capable of handling a quill. Angelina soon regained her seat next to George, and took his hand with concern etched across her features. Ginny understood—she hadn't seen George look so pale since… well, it had been a long time.

George's other arm was around Hermione's shoulders. Ginny couldn't bear to look at her friend, whose eyes were dry but vacant. Though she knew she should, Ginny couldn't bring herself to give any comfort to any of them. She could hardly comfort herself. Her brain was flying between worries over Ron and Teddy and Harry, too. What was worse, no one would tell them what had happened to Andromeda. Though deep down, Ginny already knew the answer.

Ginny clutched her knees to her chest in a heroic effort not to run away—to find someone, anyone, who could tell her what was going on. It was always the waiting that killed her. She couldn't wait anymore. She couldn't.

Hermione had listened when Ginny had whispered her concerns about Harry—about seeing his boss and that utterly still body—before everyone else had arrived. But Ginny wasn't sure how much Hermione comprehended, and Ginny couldn't entirely blame her.

"Ange?" George broke the silence.

"Yea?" she replied quietly. Ginny could see that her eyes were filling at the sound of pain in George's voice. Ginny herself had to look away.

"I think you should… should go home to bed. You haven't been feeling well…"

"Nonsense," Angelina replied, in the voice that Ginny would always identify as her Quidditch Captain tone. "I'm fine, and I'm not leaving you."

"I don't want you to, but I—someone has to open the shop in a few hours—all the orders—Ron wouldn't forgive me if we didn't—and I can't—I just can't—" George rambled, struggling to maintain control.

"He's going to be _fine_, George—I know it, okay?" Angelina said, barely above a whisper.

George nodded, but his eyes were back on his knees. Ginny recognized that it was fruitless to argue with George when he was like this—she just hoped Angelina did, too.

Apparently, she did. Angelina stood and crouched in front of George, cupping his face in her hands. She kissed his forehead and whispered something that Ginny couldn't hear, before rising again. "I'll see you at home, okay?" George nodded again.

Arthur tried to smile at her as she made her way past them to the exit. "Thank you, Angelina," he said somberly, "we'll let you know if anything changes." Angelina nodded, and hugged Molly quickly before heading to the Apparition Area.

Angelina hadn't been gone five minutes when an exhausted Healer appeared before them. "They're still unconscious, but I think it would be safe for one of you to go in, now," she said kindly.

Molly and Hermione both stood at once. Looking over at her daughter in law, however, Molly smiled with a mixture of empathy and embarrassment. "Oh, Hermione, dear—of course, you go ahead," she said, regaining her seat next to her husband. "Give them our love," she added, before turning her face into her husband's shoulder.

Hermione stopped to squeeze her mother-in-law's hand before following the Healer out of the waiting room. Ginny noted with trepidation that Hermione still hadn't said anything since she first arrived.

Ginny forced herself to get up and sit next to George, who looked as alone as Ginny felt. She took his hand even as she had to close her eyes against the sound of Hermione's choked sobs, echoing through the still swinging doors.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Ron woke slowly, blearily opening one eye and then another. He took in the unfamiliar ceiling as he adjusted to the dim light, realizing he must be in St. Mungo's.

The night's events came flooding back to him in an onslaught of images. He closed his eyes against the strength of the memory, but it only played on with more force. Pushing himself out of the disturbing reverie, he tried to turn his head to look at the clock. Yet even such a small movement made his vision blur and his entire body throb with the effort.

Taking a steadying breath, Ron forced himself to raise his head enough to look around. His eyes fell on two heads of hair at his side. The one on his left was a blissfully familiar mass of bushy brown curls. The person to his left was smaller, with dark black locks—_just like his grandmother_, Ron realized with a sickening jolt.

Yet Ron also felt a surge of relief as he took in Teddy's position next to Ron on the bed. He was still in a hospital gown, but he seemed to be alright—even if his sleeping features appeared deeply troubled.

Turning his attention back to Hermione, Ron tentatively reached out his hand to stroke her soft tresses. She woke with a start, head shooting up and scaring Ron into pulling his hand back.

"Ron!" she cried softly, apparently with enough presence of mind not to wake Teddy. But she threw her arms around Ron with such force that he had to gasp for air. She pulled back, realizing his distress, but her already red-rimmed eyes were swimming with fresh tears.

"Hey," he said quietly as she dissolved into hushed sobs on his chest. "Hey there, I'm fine, see?" he insisted even though he was hiding a grimace of pain with every movement of his arm across her shaking shoulders.

"I thought—I thought…" Hermione cried on, apparently unable to complete that sentence.

Ron couldn't bring himself to say anything to this—there had been a moment where he'd thought too… But a new thought came unbidden into his mind just then—what if Hermione had been the one to get Teddy, as they'd planned? What if Ginny had gone as he'd first suggested? Ron tried somewhat fruitlessly to shrug off the "what-ifs" as he thanked Merlin that he had been the one to go, after all.

Trying to focus, Ron continued to rub Hermione's shoulders until she calmed down, fighting what he expected was a losing battle against his own tears.

Lifting her head again, Hermione managed a weak smile as she took his hand in hers. "I was so worried—when Ginny called, I had no idea…"

"Ginny?" Ron said with a far-off look. "So she was here…"

"Yea," Hermione smiled, "and I think you rather scared her, though she would never admit it."

"No, I expect not," Ron grinned—but it only lasted a moment. The effort of fighting off why he had scared his baby sister, why he was here, why Hermione was so upset—well, it was taking its toll.

Hermione seemed to be reading his mind—as she so often did—as she asked gently, "Ron—what… what happened?"

Ron looked into her eyes then, and saw all of the strength that he felt he'd lost shining within them. Hesitantly, he began with the one thing that he knew he couldn't avoid much longer. "Andromeda," he said shakily, "she's—she's—"

But he couldn't finish. Her still face was swimming before his eyes, and then there was Teddy beside him, and the true malevolence in that man's every feature, and Ron just couldn't take it anymore.

"Shh…" Hermione said, as Ron tried to control his breathing, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks. "I know," she was saying soothingly, as she moved to cradle him in her arms. "They came and told us just before Teddy woke up," she went on, knowing that Ron would want her to just keep talking. "Your mum is beside herself—your dad wanted to take her home, but she wouldn't hear of it until she knew that both of you were okay."

"_Is_ Teddy okay?" Ron asked, unable to bear looking at the still-sleeping form beside him.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, "at least physically. I think—I think he's in shock. Once he woke up, he refused to leave your side. They gave him a potion for dreamless sleep, but… You—you saved him, Ron…"

"No, she did…" Ron said quietly. "If I had just been quicker or if I'd gotten there sooner…" Ron added, mumbling into Hermione's chest.

Hermione didn't answer at first and Ron looked up hesitantly into her eyes. She was staring down at him shrewdly, apparently waiting until she had his full attention. "I know you, Ronald Weasley," she said firmly, "and I know you would have done everything in your power to stop this from happening. So don't you dare blame yourself for one second. Not one second, okay?" By the end her voice was starting to break and her eyes were filling with tears once more, but Ron loved her all the more for her sincerity.

He just wished he could share it.

Part of him knew she was right, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Had he done enough? Had he been good enough? What if someone else had been there—what if Harry had been there?

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed with a start.

"What?" Hermione asked, taken completely off guard.

"Harry was there," Ron said quickly, "when that tall bloke—and he said—and then he used the Cruciatus Curse—"

"Wait, wait, start from the beginning."

Ron launched into the story, carefully skimming over Andromeda's death, oddly glad for the distraction of worrying about Harry.

Hermione was silent when he finished. Ron could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Ginny thought she saw… oh, Merlin…" Hermione breathed.

"What?" Ron said, his alarm growing, "what did she see?"

Hermione told Ron what she remembered of Ginny's concerns—of seeing Ron's old boss Sterdem with that stretcher, the blond hair, the barely restrained panic in Ginny's face.

"Where is Sterdem?" Ron asked, somewhat rhetorically. "I'd like to have a word with him myself…"

"Do you think he'll tell you anything?"

"I'm not going to give him a choice," Ron said determinedly. It was high time they were let out of the dark.

"I'll go send him a message," Hermione said. "Oh!" she added with a jolt, "goodness, I ought to tell everyone you're awake."

"Everyone? Who's everyone?"

"Well your mum and dad, of course. And Ginny's still here. Bill had to go home—Victoire is pretty… distressed. And they called Percy into work. Charlie's demanding constant updates. George, though, he—he refused to leave. I think he was as… as frightened as I was…" Hermione finished in a small voice. She hadn't been in any state to comfort George herself, but she'd felt his arm around her shoulders while they'd waited—it was shaking, just barely enough to notice, but shaking nonetheless.

Ron sighed deeply. He hated to see his family worry over him, least of all George. It hurt his heart desperately whenever he saw that look in George's eyes. It was too familiar, and carried too many bad memories. And with everything that had been going on lately, that look had been far too frequent. "Well go tell them I'll live, alright?" Ron managed with a smirk.

Hermione playfully swatted his arm, but recoiled when he winced in pain.

"Hey, injured, remember?"

"Sorry," Hermione said with an apologetic smile, and leaned over to kiss him tenderly, lingering a bit longer than might be usual before walking to the door.

George was barreling through that same door within seconds. He stopped short when he took in the sight of his little brother.

"Do I look that bad?" Ron joked.

George didn't seem to be in the mood for humor, though. He crossed the room to Ron's side in only a few steps and enveloped him in a massive hug. "_Never_ scare me like that again," he whispered.

"Oh, Ron!" Ron heard his mother gasp before he had a chance to respond to George. It was now Molly's turn to gather her son into her arms. "Oh, dear, oh my little boy," she cried, rocking him back and forth. Ron tried to pat her shaking shoulders but didn't quite have the strength—not when he was fighting to keep his emotions in check as well.

"Molly…" Arthur said softly, deftly getting her to release her death-grip on Ron. "It's good to see you, son" he added with a warm smile.

"Ginny?" Ron asked, just having noticed his sister standing behind their parents. "Are you alright?" he added with concern as he took in her pale face and dark-rimmed eyes.

Ginny came to stand next to him and took his hand, but seemed only able to nod in response. Frowning, Ron pulled her into a hug himself, and took the opportunity to murmur, "Harry wanted me to tell you he loves you."

Ginny's eyes were wide as she pulled back but she managed a small smile. "I'm so glad you're—you're okay," she said softly.

Hermione came back in then and joined the circle around Ron's bed. He looked at her questioningly and she nodded almost imperceptibly. _Good_, Ron thought, _maybe we can get some answers…_

Ron spent the next several minutes recounting what he remembered of the night, leaving out the bit about Harry, of course.

Molly was sniffling dangerously again by the end. "Bless him," she said softly as she turned her gaze upon Teddy. "Thank Godric for that potion… perhaps we ought to take him home, Arthur," she added, looking to her husband.

"I think that would be an excellent idea," came a deep voice from behind them before Arthur had a chance to answer.

"Kingsley!" Molly said with a start, "what are you doing here?"

"A lot has happened tonight, Molly," Kingsley said somberly, "I felt it deserved my immediate attention." Molly nodded, weakening slightly as Kingsley's strong hand briefly rested on her shoulder in comfort. "How are you feeling, Ron?" he added.

"Like I've just had a round with the Whomping Willow," Ron said honestly.

"Yes," Kingsley said, "yes, I expect you might from what Sterdem's told me."

"You've spoken with Sterdem? I need to—" Ron began, sitting up slightly.

"Yes, I have," Kingsley cut him off, "and I think I'll be able to answer all of your questions myself," he added pointedly. "But first, we have a few other things to attend to. I took the liberty of pulling Andromeda's will," he said, his usually steady voice catching slightly on the name. "It seems Harry was to be Teddy's guardian if anything should happen…"

Everyone grew silent on this point, and Ron exchanged a quick look with Hermione before turning his attention back to the Minister.

"Well, we'll look after him, of course, that is, until…" Molly began decisively, though she sounded a little less certain by the end.

"That will be fine for now," Kingsley replied, "but I'm afraid it won't be that simple. I'm sorry to say there is still a good deal of prejudice in the Ministry—and with everything that has been going on of late—especially after what happened tonight—well… the Wizengamot has already set a custody hearing for one month from today to decide what should happen to Teddy."

Ron felt his temper rising and knew it was a feeling echoed throughout those in the room. Remus Lupin was a good man, Ron thought, his… condition was nothing to punish his son over. Least of all when he'd lost the last family that he'd had.

"I'd like to be involved in the hearing," Hermione spoke up, and Ron saw the determination in her face.

"I'll see to it," Kingsley said with a faint smile. "And now, I think you all ought to get some rest. I need to have a quick word with Ron."

"Oh, of course, of course," Molly said as she and Arthur each hugged their youngest son once more before Arthur stooped to pick Teddy up in his arms. The potion, at least, was still doing its job and the boy didn't stir.

"We'll see you tomorrow, dear," Molly said warmly as they walked out.

George, who hadn't said a word in some time, looked between Kingsley and Ron for a moment before turning to the door as well. "I'll just be outside," he said.

"Ginny? Hermione? I promise I'll only keep him for a moment," Kingsley said to the two young women.

"I'm not leaving," Ginny said forcefully.

"Nor am I," Hermione said with a bit less bite, but no less resolve.

Kingsley smiled at this. "So I see Harry took my advice, then?" he said bemusedly. When none of them answered, he continued, "And he's just fine, by the way. A little the worse for wear, but he's safe."

Ginny sank onto the bed in relief and Ron reached out a steadying hand. "Where is he now?" she asked shakily.

"I can't tell you that," Kingsley said apologetically, "but Sterdem assures me that he's well."

"That's not good enough," Ginny said, "why isn't he here, then?"

"You know Harry," Ron interjected with more than a little bitterness, "he told me he wasn't giving up yet."

"He'd bloody well better!" Ginny said, rounding on her brother.

"Ginny, I—" Ron began, but Kingsley cut him off.

"Ginny, I don't think Harry would be the man he is if he was ready to give up," Kingsley said in that deep, soothing voice. "He and Sterdem are already working out a new cover. The sooner we infiltrate this group, the sooner we stop them. I won't have another war, not on my watch," he finished, his voice growing harder.

"We understand," Hermione said quietly, though Ron knew that he and Ginny, at least, would have said more if they'd had they opportunity. "But who was the man Ginny saw today? With Sterdem?"

"Someone Ron or Andromeda brought down, evidently. The Aurors found him, barely alive, in a ditch down the road from the house. His comrades apparently left him for dead. If he lives, we'll get all the information out of him that we can. And I'll try to keep you updated," Kingsley added, "but I can't make any promises. I don't even think Sterdem has much contact with Harry most of the time. We just have to trust him to help us stop this. We're not wasting any time or effort this go around."

Ginny nodded sullenly and walked over to the window, turning her back on the room.

"Thanks, Kingsley," Hermione said even as she watched Ginny intently.

"Yea, thanks," Ron added, grateful, but still frustrated. "Let us know if there's anything else we can do."

"I think you've done more than we could have asked of you," Kingsley said sincerely and Ron blushed. "But I would like you to come in as soon as you're able for a full debriefing. Sterdem will want anything you can give him"

Ron nodded, already dreading reliving the past night's events for a third time. He was sure it wouldn't be the last. "I'll come by in the afternoon," he said.

"Good," Kingsley said as he turned to go. "Oh and Ginny," he added with a somber sincerity, "congratulations on the baby."

George walked in as Kingsley exited and raised his eyebrows at Ron. Blissfully, Ron thought, George didn't say anything more, though. Noticing his sister by the window, George strode quickly to her side.

"Ginny?" George said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, why don't you let me take you home?"

Ginny nodded and somewhat uncharacteristically allowed herself to lean on her brother as he led her out of the room. She stopped just before they reached the door and turned back. "I'll see you both at home later?" she said in a small voice, and Ron could see the tears she was valiantly fighting against quickly filling her eyes.

"As soon as they let me out of here," Ron said with a small smile. He was glad Hermione knew his sister well enough to fight her own instincts to go to Ginny right now. Instead, Hermione nodded and smiled, mouthing a "thank you" to George once Ginny had turned.

George nodded, sharing meaningful look with Hermione before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Hermione sighed as she turned back to Ron, perching on the side of the bed. "I hope she'll be okay…" she said, almost to herself.

"She's tough," Ron replied, though he was worried too. His sister really hadn't been herself lately—frankly, it scared him a little.

"Now budge up," Hermione said, pulling out her wand and magicking the hospital bed a bit wider. "I don't think I can sleep apart from you tonight—or today," she added, looking at the time.

Ron gladly obliged, silently agreeing that he certainly couldn't sleep without her next to him—not today. Possibly not ever.

Moving over enough for Hermione to slip in beside him, Ron wrapped his arms around her small form. He didn't care how much it strained his aching body—it was nothing compared to the pain of fear and loss that her warm presence was just managing to keep at bay.

No, he thought, he was never letting go.


	5. October 2nd, 2004

Chapter Five: October 2nd, 2004

_Do the duty which lieth nearest to thee! Thy second duty will already have become clearer. _Thomas Carlyle

* * *

"Would you stop _doing_ that?" Ginny said irritably from her spot against the cold, stone wall.

"What?" Ron snapped back.

"_That_," Ginny said, gesturing at his stalking form. "That incessant pacing. I'm going spare just watching you."

"Can't help it," Ron muttered, continuing to tread the path from one side of the oaken doors to the other.

Ginny sighed. She knew the theme of her second trimester seemed to be mood swings and hormones—and, certainly, it was better than being nauseated with every step—but honestly, with every clop, click, _clack_ of her brother's shoes…

"_Stop it!_" she breathed mutinously, barely managing to stop herself from shouting.

Ron looked up at her, eyes wide at her tone, his neck bright red. Ginny prepared herself for the inevitable, but it never came. Instead, her brother slumped dejectedly down the wall next to her.

Ginny didn't say anything further as she let her blood reduce to a simmer. She didn't like that she had almost wanted that fight—needed that fight to let out her worry and anxiety and useless energy and everything else. But she was a bit shocked that Ron—usually so like her in temperament in that way—wasn't fighting back.

She had to hand it to him, really. He'd been holding back a lot these days, and she knew it was at least partially because of her. But it was also because of Teddy and… and what happened a month previous. Ginny appreciated his efforts to keep his anger in check most days, but in truth, it was really starting to worry her. How much longer could he keep it all in?

"Thank you," she said at last.

Ron only grunted in response. After a moment, he added, "How do you think it's going in there?"

"I don't know…" Ginny replied, wishing she was sitting on the other side of those blasted doors. She didn't like to think of Hermione and that single appointed Ministry official against the entire Wizengamot, pleading Teddy's case. She was thankful, at least, that Teddy's presence wasn't required.

"They'll have to let him stay with us, won't they?" Ron said hopefully for perhaps the fiftieth time that day.

"I don't know, Ron," Ginny said again. She didn't want to lie to him, because if she lied to him, she'd be lying to herself. And when you lied to yourself, you just ended up disappointed.

Brother and sister sat in agitated silence for some time before the doors swung open forcefully and a white faced Hermione emerged, her fists clenched with barely contained rage and obvious indignation.

"Well, I never—Those little—I could just—" she sputtered incoherently before spouting off a list of very nasty things she'd like to do to the witches and wizards behind her that even made Ron blush.

"You don't mean they…" Ron trailed off as he scrambled up and toward her. Ginny clambered up as well, fearing the answer.

"Recess," Hermione said shortly, still fuming. She stalked off down the hall a short ways, Ron and Ginny right on her heels.

"So what happened?" Ron questioned, hardly satisfied.

"I cannot _believe_ how prejudiced those—those foul-mouthed little _prats_ really are," Hermione seethed. "You'd think, after all of my work, that I'd expect it. But I simply can't fathom why they'd see Teddy—_Teddy_," she nearly shrieked, "as a threat!"

Ginny felt her temper rising again and saw Ron flexing his fingers out of the corner of her eye. "What do they want to do?" she asked with quiet fury.

"Well, it's not all of them," Hermione said, breathing deeply to calm herself. "But there are quite a few that want to 'observe' him to see if his 'unusual' background has produced any 'unfortunate' side effects," she scoffed, mocking the words. "Not only does that set a horrible precedent, but I'm afraid…" Hermione went on, biting her lip. "I'm afraid if we let them have him, even for a little while, the damage will already have been done. You remember how Remus talked about those werewolf camps—I don't want Teddy to end up in a place like that."

"We're not going to," Ron said resolutely, putting a firm arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Of course we aren't," Ginny agreed, though she didn't feel so confident. "You said it wasn't all of them? What's their stance?"

"Well… they know the others are talking complete rubbish, I think, we've got medical charts and past cases enough to convince them of that. But they still aren't sure what to do with him… Just like we thought, they're stuck on the fact that Harry's not here to fulfill the stipulations in Andromeda's will. They're worried their only recourse is the orphanage."

"No…" Ginny breathed, immediate recalling and summarily suppressing the memories of Tom Riddle's diary and what the orphanage had turned that young boy into. "I'll take him, until Harry gets back."

Hermione turned sympathetic eyes on her. "I don't think they're likely to go for that," she said sadly. "They don't know that Harry's coming back at all—and they don't know how," she stopped, looking around, "how serious you two really are. And with you already expecting…"

Ginny wanted to hit something—hard. She was tired of this same set of problems. If they could just _explain_… But she clenched her teeth and nodded. "Mum and Dad, then?" she offered.

"I know they'd do it in a heartbeat," Hermione said carefully, "but… but I hate to throw that on them—they haven't been long without you lot and…"

"And who needs to raise yet another child at their age or their… income," Ginny finished for her. Hermione shrugged somewhat apologetically.

Several minutes passed in which all three stared off, apparently expecting the answer to be written on the floor, or the walls, of the ceiling.

Finally Ron, who had been uncharacteristically silent, spoke up. "We could do it," he said quietly, staring at his trainers.

Hermione turned to him, obviously a little surprised. "Are you sure? I mean, I'd thought… but I didn't know if you'd…"

"No, we should," she said, looking up. "I want to; I want us to do it." Ginny found she was rather proud to see the determination shining in his eyes.

"You're married, good jobs," Ginny added, not without a little bitterness. "Surely they can't have any objection to that."

"And Teddy's almost as used to us taking care of him as Harry," Ron added, "and Ginny will be around, won't you Gin?" Ginny nodded vehemently.

Hermione looked between the two of them before settling her eyes on Ron once more. "You're sure?" she said again.

"Positive," Ron said firmly. "He ought… he ought to have someone looking after him that cares about him."

Hermione let a small smile cross her features. "Oh, Ron…" she sighed, throwing her arms around his neck.

Ginny politely looked away as they held each other for a moment. She felt her eyes water as she thought of how much they were taking on, how much they'd _been_ taking on…

She wished Harry was there.

"Alright," Hermione said at last, "I should get back in there."

They walked the short distance back to the trial room. "Wish me luck," Hermione added, squaring her shoulders before pushing through the doors.

Ron and Ginny resumed their vigil against the wall. This time, though, Ginny took Ron's hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. A corner of his mouth lifted as he squeezed her hand in return.

Ginny was starting to doze off when she heard the lift doors open a corridor away. She peered through the gloomy light, trying to make out who was approaching.

"Who'd be coming down here now?" Ron wondered aloud.

Ginny's mouth dropped open as she realized who it was.

"It can't be…" Ron said as she felt him stiffen beside her.

The pair watched as the graceful form of Narcissa Malfoy strode purposefully past them and, without the least bit of preamble, let herself into the courtroom.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Ginny asked, finally regaining her voice. She didn't care how many times Harry tried to convince her—there was still a part of her that bristled at the thought of trusting a Malfoy, particularly one that married Lucius.

Ron was still staring at where Narcissa had disappeared behind the doors, mouth working soundlessly. "She's…" he finally croaked, "she's technically Teddy's next of kin."

"Oh, bollocks…" Ginny let out slowly.

Ron was already up and pacing again. "If she thinks I'm letting him spend one miserable minute in her custody…" he was saying, muttering under his breath.

Ginny quickly stood not five minutes later when Narcissa reemerged, alone. Ron was still gaping at her as she raised one blonde eyebrow in their direction before walking off.

Ginny hesitated for a moment before calling after her retreating form. "What did you do?" she asked, pleased to find her voice was strong.

Narcissa came to a dead stop but didn't turn around. Ginny just barely made out her whispered answer before Narcissa made her way to the lifts: "The right thing."

Ron and Ginny shared a bewildered look before Ginny ultimately joined Ron in traversing this short stretch of the dimly lit corridor. They didn't say a word, each wallowing in their own unanswered questions.

At long last, the forbidding doors swung open slowly as a stream of Ministry officials spilled out, talking animatedly with each other. Ron and Ginny stepped back, searching for Hermione's head amongst the crowd.

When the line of people had reduced to a trickle and they still didn't see her, Ginny began to grow concerned. As much as she had tried to prepare herself for the worst, she just couldn't accept… No.

Ron reached Hermione first, where she was standing behind the small defendant's table that they'd brought in for the hearing. He couldn't seem to bring himself to say anything as he came to stand beside her.

Ginny stood in front, using the table to steady her shaking hands. "What did Narcissa Malfoy say?" she asked, voice dead even.

Hermione was staring straight ahead, unseeing, even as she answered, "She stood up for Teddy, and… and for Andromeda, I think—said there was nothing wrong with him… and if… and if they couldn't see that, then treat them like pariahs all they wished, but there was still Malfoy money in this building…"

Ginny stared at her, openmouthed. She now recognized the look on Hermione's face—disbelief.

"So…?" Ron finally said, a painful hopefulness coloring his voice.

Hermione turned at his words, eyes focusing. "So… we won," she said in a quiet shock. "I thought we'd lost, for certain, but we won."

Ginny took half a beat to process this before she practically flew around the table to pull Hermione into a bone-crushing hug, seconds before Ron's long arms enveloped them both. They were all laughing now, letting all of the tension flow out of their tired bodies.

"I feel like I've never won anything before," Hermione practically giggled. Then she turned to her husband with a hint of that incredulity seeping back in. "Ron," she breathed, "do you realize that according to the Wizengamot, we just became _parents_?"

The couple looked at each other for a moment, a mixture of fear and astonishment passing over their features before both broke into wide grins. Ron pulled Hermione back into his arms, holding her there as his eyes glistened brightly. Ginny looked down as she felt a tiny flutter just below her navel. _Parents_…

"Come on, you too," Ginny said with false levity, cursing the hormones for sending tears to her own eyes. "If I know Mum, she's already planned a victory celebration."

* * *

Ron reached out to steady Ginny as she wobbled upon Apparating in front of the Burrow. She just shrugged him off.

Taking Hermione's hand, Ron followed his sister inside.

Everyone was assembled in the kitchen when they entered, a variety of expectant and nervous looks upon their faces.

Ron could almost laugh if it wasn't so tragic—whenever something bad happened, his family still seemed to follow a beacon home—and they always seemed to settle in the kitchen. Everyone was there—it was easier for Bill and Percy's families to stay in their own homes, what with the kids and all, but they came by the Burrow nearly every day. Molly had wanted Teddy to stay with her and Arthur. Ron could tell it made her feel better to try and give Teddy a mother's—or a grandmother's—comfort. But Teddy couldn't seem to fall asleep without Ron sitting by his bed, so Ron and Hermione—and Ginny—had moved in temporarily as well. George and Angelina had even taken up residence in Bill's old room. George had insisted on being more available to help out, but Ron also saw the somewhat haunted look in his eyes every so often. Ron didn't like it.

Even Charlie had come in after the… the incident. Ron was glad Ileana had been able to come with him this time; he'd been sorry she couldn't make it to his and Hermione's wedding. Though perhaps the fact that their boss in Romania wouldn't let Ileana take off work saved her the endless hinting and nagging that Molly would have thrown in Ileana and Charlie's direction… Personally, Ron thought it was a lost cause; they'd been together for years, but Ron didn't really think they'd ever get married. Didn't seem to matter—she was good for Charlie anyway, Ron thought.

"Well…?" Bill broke the silence, questioning the three newcomers.

It was then that Teddy emerged from behind Molly's chair, eyes fixed on Ron's. Ron felt his breath catch—had he really just become responsible for that little boy?

Hermione released Ron's hand and crouched, beckoning Teddy forward. "How'd you like to come live with Ron and me for awhile? Ginny will still be there too," she said quietly as the rest of the family let out a collective sigh of relief.

Teddy stared at her for a moment, in which Hermione looked up at Ron nervously. Ron found that he had no comfort to offer, he was just as anxious as she was. How, in a fraction of a second, had they for all intents and purposes become parents?

Hermione looked back in time to see Teddy nod solemnly as a ghost of a grin stretched his lips. It was good to see—normally such an exuberant child, he really hadn't been smiling much. "Okay," he said softly, "yea, I'd like that."

"Okay," Hermione smiled, as Ron crouched beside them and gave Teddy the biggest grin he could manage.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Molly was exclaiming, her eyes bright. "I just knew they couldn't… Well, yes; boys! Go set up the tables outside, would you? This calls for food; lots of food, I think."

With that, everyone set themselves to the task of readying the Burrow for a Weasley feast. The first happy one it had seen over the last month. Even with so many people staying at home or coming in regularly, dinner had been a very subdued affair.

An hour later found everyone lounging, patting their full stomachs, while the children played in the paddock. Even Teddy was running around with them. Hermione had pointed out how protectively watchful Teddy had been of the little ones lately—even more big brother-like than usual. But today, Ron noted with satisfaction, Teddy was pretending not to be fast enough as Victoire chased him in circles. Ron caught Ginny's attention and pointed in the children's direction—it was exactly the type of thing he'd done to her when they were kids. She smiled back at him, albeit half-heartedly.

Turning his attention back to the adults lazing about, Ron frowned as he did a quick headcount. "Where's Mum?" he asked the group at large.

"Inside," Arthur answered from where he leaned back in his chair, eyes closed to the sun, "making dessert, I believe."

"I'll go see if she needs help," Ron announced, though he might as well have said it to himself. Shrugging, he got up and made his way back to the kitchen.

What Ron found there immediately made him want to turn around and leave. But he couldn't, of course…

"That's an interesting way to flavor the pudding," he said softly as Molly mixed her steadily flowing tears in with the chocolate cream.

"Oh! Ron, I—I didn't hear you come in," Molly responded with a mighty snuffle and a hasty wiping of her eyes.

"Is—is everything alright, Mum?" Ron asked hesitantly, taking a few steps closer.

"Fine, dear…" she said, turning back to her cooking. Her hands were shaking so much, though, that the bowl was rattling on the counter. Ron closed the distance between them and placed a hand on top of hers to stop her stirring. "I just…" she said softly, staring at their hands. "I _miss_ her," she whispered, devolving into tears once more.

Ron felt his heart constrict, but he didn't know what else to do, so he pulled his mother into a tight hug. He rocked her slightly for a few moments, much like he would Teddy after a nightmare, or like Hermione would him after a particularly vivid dream…

"I wish there was something I could do," he muttered over her head.

Molly pulled back suddenly, eyes still red. "You don't think you're doing anything?" she asked with a quiet incredulity.

Ron balked at her sudden change of attitude—under her stare he almost felt as though he'd done something wrong. "I dunno…" he said lamely.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said with command, "I want you to listen to me. We all have our place in this family, but you have you have gone above and beyond this past month—months, really."

Ron made a noncommittal gesture, biting his lip. Molly's expression softened as she pulled him into a chair and took a seat herself. "Ron," she said quietly, "you have a tremendous heart, do you know that? You take it all in—everyone's pain and worry and needs—you always have. But let us share the weight of it, alright?"

The unspoken point was clear: share the burden or it will break you. Ron knew he'd let the pressure explode within him before… he didn't have a temper for nothing.

Ron smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Mum," he said quietly.

"Thank you, Ron," she said, pulling him into a brief hug once more. "You're a good boy," she added, voice quavering. Ron nodded, blinking furiously.

"Now I'm just going to run upstairs and freshen up," Molly said as she pulled away. "No," she said as Ron started to rise with her, "I'm fine, I promise. Go tell everyone the dessert will be out in a minute."

"She's right, you know," came a voice from behind him as Molly left the room. Ron turned to see George leaning in the doorframe.

"About what?" Ron asked tiredly. That look was back in George's eyes…

"You take too much on yourself, little brother," George said seriously, making his way into the room.

"George…" Ron sighed. He couldn't have this conversation again, not today.

"I just want to—"

"Help," Ron finished for him, cutting him off. "I know, and I appreciate it, I do. And you've been helping—I don't know what else you want from me."

"The truth!" George exclaimed.

"What do you think I've been telling you?"

"Hide from me all you want, but don't insult my intelligence," George fumed. "What _is_ it? Don't you trust me—us? Don't you trust your own family?"

"Of course I do!" Ron said, his own temper rising rapidly—he didn't have the energy to stop it. "But this is bigger than me!"

George's eyebrows shot up. "Ron! You almost got _killed_!"

Ron's mouth opened but no words came out. The two brothers stared at each other as Ron willed himself to calm down. If he wasn't careful… He sighe; he wanted there to be a way, but… he just kept thinking of the conversation he, Hermione and Ginny had had just the day before…

"_I want to _tell_ them!" Ginny was seething, menacingly crunching twigs in the underbrush. "This is getting ridiculous—after everything that's happened, if we can't trust our own family, who can we trust?"_

"_It's not that we don't trust them, Ginny," Hermione was saying, "but this is how we keep them safe."_

"_I've always hated that excuse, and you know it," Ginny spat. "Silence and secrets don't keep anyone safe, it just keeps them confused and hurt and unprepared."_

"_Ginny, we're not talking about—" Hermione started to say, her own voice rising, but Ron cut her off._

"_It keeps Harry safe," he said quietly from his spot, leaning against a tall tree in the woods behind the Burrow. Both women snapped their heads in his direction, almost as if they'd forgotten he was there. "It keeps him safe, Gin," he repeated. "The Aurors have rules for a reason—you _know_ this. Really, _we_ shouldn't even know. I'm glad we do, but the fact is, it's a liability. The more people that know, the more chance there is that the wrong person overhears something, even a whisper between family, friends. That information gets out, and Harry's cover is blown… well, they used the Cruciatus on him for just showing up to the wrong party," he said bitterly, brutally. He knew he was right, but he regretted saying it when he saw the shocked fear he'd put in his baby sister's eyes. "I'm sorry, Ginny," he said softly, moving toward her._

"_No, no," she said, backing away, eyes still wide and her face blanched. "No, you're right," she said resignedly. Hermione moved towards her now too, though not without a long look at Ron—a study in sympathy and admonition. "No," Ginny said again, "just… no." She stalked off between the trees, leaving Ron and Hermione speechless in her wake._

"I'm sorry…" George was saying softly when Ron still didn't respond. "I shouldn't have…"

"No," Ron said slowly, echoing his sister from the day before. But it was George's eyes that held that look of fear and hurt today… _Maybe…_ Ron thought, searching his brother's face and coming to a decision before he could change his mind. "Fancy a fly?" he said, already heading outside to the broom shed.

"Sorry?" George was saying, completely taken off guard. But he was following Ron quickly, working to keep up with Ron's longer strides. Ron tossed him a broom and kicked off the ground himself before George had a chance to say anything further.

Once they were up in the air, Ron circled higher and higher. He'd made up his mind, but that didn't make this any easier… Besides, they really shouldn't—couldn't be overheard.

Leveling out somewhere high above the house—wanting, as he did, to stay within the wards that protected them from Muggle sight—he waited for George to come to a stop beside him.

George pulled up in front of him, his eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe. "I have to tell you, Ron," he said sardonically, "this is not one of your more brilliant ways to avoid a discussion."

"I'm not avoiding," Ron said levelly.

"You're not?" George said, a bit stunned.

"No, I'm having it," Ron said with some sincerity. "Look," he went on, "before I say anything more, you have to promise me that you won't breath a word of this to anyone—not Mum or Dad, not even Angelina."

"Ron, I—" George started to protest.

"No," Ron interjected forcefully. "That's the way it has to be. I know it doesn't seem fair, and believe me, it's not. But I need you to promise me, George."

George considered for a moment before nodding. "You have my word," he said quietly, and Ron believed him.

"Good," Ron sighed. "And… thank you."

George shrugged. "So…?"

"So I can't tell you everything—no, I can't," Ron said, raising his hand to stop George's response. "It's not my place to tell, and really, I probably shouldn't even know half of what I do. But I know you want to help… and though I think you do a fine job of that anyway, a time may come when…" he trailed off, sighing again.

"You can't expect me to sit by while you and Ginny have to deal with—with whatever it is you're dealing with. Hermione, too," George said quietly. "I'm your big brother, for Merlin's sake."

"I know…" Ron said, examining the splinters of wood on his broom handle. "And I know how… how important that is to you. So… so you're right. Harry is," he paused, hesitating for a split second. "Harry didn't just run off."

"Of course he didn't," George sighed, "none of us really think he did, but…"

"But he didn't give you any evidence to the contrary, and neither did we," Ron finished.

"And the others," George went on, "well, maybe they're just more willing to accept that, but I… I see how much this is killing you _every single day_, Ron. I can't ignore that."

"I know…" Ron repeated himself, not trusting his voice to say much more. The fact was, he could see how much it was killing George, too. "So, right," he continued after a moment, "it's all part of… part of a plan, yea? All of this mess that's been going on lately… He's working to stop it."

George paled. "He's worse than you," George breathed, trying to smile but failing entirely. "Merlin… poor Ginny."

"Yea…" Ron sighed. "Especially since they're—" but he stopped himself; that really wasn't his news to share.

"They're what?" George asked, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing bad," Ron assured him. "But… you should ask her… ask her what's around her neck."

George's brow furrowed but he nodded.

"Okay, then… there you have it," Ron said, shoulders sagging. He had to admit, it did feel better somehow to have George know—at least know something.

George stared at him for a moment before inching closer on his broom and wrapping his arms around his little brother in midair. "I'm sorry you have to go through this again…" he said in his ear. Ron held on appreciatively, glad to have the support.

"It's weird, you know," Ron said as they pulled apart. "To be on the other side of things this time around…"

"You've still been doing it alone, though," George countered. "Why do you lot insist on that?" he added, smiling sadly.

"Gluttons for punishment, I guess," Ron replied with a lopsided grin.

The two brothers headed back to the ground slowly in a peaceable silence. It was nearly sunset when they put their brooms back in the shed. George stopped Ron at the entrance. "Thanks for telling me," he said sincerely.

"I'm glad you know," Ron answered past a lump in his throat. "Hey," he added, "wait here a moment." Ron ducked out and around the small building to where his backyard came into view. "Oi, Ginny!" he called to where she was sitting, staring off at the horizon. "Come take a look at this, would you?"

Ginny didn't say anything but came over to the shed with a hint of annoyance. "What is—" she started to say as she came around the back, but stopped short when she saw George. "George…?" she said, a hint of worry creeping into her voice at his expression.

George simply stepped forward and placed a finger at the center of her collar bone. Ginny's eyes widened for a fraction of a second as she looked questioningly at Ron, who nodded. Ginny wove her hand under her collar and pulled out the long, thin chain that held her engagement ring.

George must have looked from it to her five times before a huge grin split his face. Just as soon, however, it was gone as reality seemed to dawn on his features. "Oh, Ginny…" he said quietly as he pulled her into his arms.

Ginny clutched him tightly as she looked over his shoulder at Ron. "_Thank you_," she mouthed before burying her face in her brother's neck. Ron simply nodded again and headed towards the house.

Ron found Hermione in the garden, Teddy fast asleep in her lap.

"He's almost too big for that," Ron mused as he took a seat beside them.

"He was exhausted," Hermione whispered. "They really wore him out today."

The couple was silent for a few minutes before Hermione caught sight of Ginny and George walking towards the woods. George was obviously holding her up.

Hermione looked as though she wanted to follow them, but Ron put a hand on her arm. "Its fine," he said, "George knows."

"He _knows_?" Hermione asked, looking back at him dubiously.

"Well, he knows enough, anyway."

"You told him?"

"Yes."

"But you just said yesterday—" Hermione forced herself to sputter at a whisper.

"I know," Ron said simply.

"Sometimes I really don't understand you, Ronald," Hermione said, pursing her lips.

"I know that, too," he smirked. "But after today, with…" he trailed off, gesturing at the slumbering form in Hermione's lap. "It's just going to get harder. Like it or not, we're not going to have as much time to be there for Ginny. But maybe George can… I don't know, I think… I think she needs someone else in her corner that actually has some idea what she's going through. And he wants to do it… And I can't—I just can't keep seeing that look on his face and knowing I'm part of what causes it."

Hermione watched her husband for a moment before pulling his arm around her shoulders and snuggling into him. "You really can be very perceptive when you want to be," she said quietly.

Ron kissed the top of her head. "So they keep telling me," he whispered lightly, lacing his free hand through Hermione's fingers.

Hermione reached her other hand up to stroke Teddy's hair softly, as though he were still a small baby. Teddy's hair—dark today, as it had been recently—shifted in his sleep: a rich Weasley red.

Ron had to bite his lip as the weight settled in around his heart once more. _One thing at a time_, he thought, forcing himself to breathe deeply, _one thing at a time…_

* * *

**Author's Note: My apologies once again for the extremely long delay. I'm hoping it should move along a bit more quickly from now on. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this—and don't forget to please read and **_**review**_**!**


	6. November 2nd, 2004

Chapter Six: November 2nd, 2004

_You always second guess yourself. Just think of all the time you'd save if you just trusted yourself. _Takayuki Ikkaku, Arisa Hosaka and Toshihiro Kawabata

* * *

This was one of the days that Ron walked home from work. _This_ was one of the days where Ron was aware that he was stewing dangerously—a life-sized cauldron poised to boil over at any moment.

He walked partly out of a desire to not Splinch himself into oblivion. But lately, he was using this time more and more to make an attempt to get out his frustrations before he stepped over the threshold of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There, he was not allowed to give into his stress and anxiety and anger and whatever else he was feeling. Here, out on the streets of London, he was allowed to kick the pavement as hard as he could, shoot daggers at the offending heavens, and even jinx a few unsuspecting rubbish bins if he so desired.

Everyone had been telling him lately that he was keeping his "_feelings_" bottled up, just like he always did—that he was letting these pesky "_feelings_" get the better of him. Basically, he was losing a chess match to some abstract little group of, that's right,"_feelings_." And not only that, but he was letting those around him affect his "_feelings_." Just let us help, Ron, they said, just let it all go.

Well, maybe Ron knew there was some truth to all that, but they didn't like it when he got angry, either, did they? No, no, no, Ron Weasley was not allowed to lose his temper.

And today—one of _those_ days—Ron was itching to yell at whatever crossed his path. He wasn't planning anything in particular, mind you, but he was old enough to recognize the signs. And so he walked.

He walked home on this day, one of those days, one of those very long days.

It had started at somewhere just after 5 o'clock in the morning. Teddy had woken up with a single, piercing cry, hysterical from another one of his nightmares. He was shaking uncontrollably in an eerily silent way that made Ron distinctly uneasy. Even after however many years sleeping in the same room as Harry, Ron wasn't sure he was prepared for this particular brand of night terrors again.

Then came the shop—the incredibly _busy_ shop. It was just two days after Halloween and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was already bursting at the seams with people intent on getting a head start on their holiday shopping. Ron thought they were all barking.

Not having had the chance to replenish their stocks after the Halloween sales, they'd sold out of many popular items. This, of course, only produced hoards of angry customers and tedious backorder forms that gave Ron a splitting headache. Eventually, George had sent him home early with that worried look that Ron hated so much.

Of course, that was after the visit that they'd had from Ginny at lunchtime. She'd come in—possibly during the busiest time of the day—looking distinctly dejected. Ginny, in fact, was pouting—which Ron thought was something he'd never seen his sister actually _do_. She was going on and on about how tired she felt and how big she was getting already. Ron had turned to her—rather impatiently, he knew—and told her to just go buy some new clothes, then.

Ginny had huffed out of the store with a distinct look of malice in her eyes.

George had turned on Ron immediately, berating him for being so insensitive, before following Ginny out into Diagon Alley. He'd returned a few moments later, however—that look of concern floating barely concealed behind the reprimand—and told Ron to pack it in for the day.

Get some rest, he'd said, clear your head.

Ron wondered when exactly the last time his head had been clear was...

Much too soon, Ron found himself twisting the doorknob and stepping into the cool, dark foyer of Number 12. A small, very small part of his brain was practically screaming at him that he wasn't ready yet—that he hadn't calmed down enough. But the larger part was just so worn out that he simply didn't care.

"Ron!" came what could only be described as a squeal as Hermione bounded down the stairs to great him, like a kid on Christmas morning. "You're home early!" she shrieked again. "Oh, I'm _so_ _glad_!"

With that, she'd launched herself into Ron's startled arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. _Now this_, Ron thought vaguely, _is a bad day cure I could get behind_.

After a good, solid few minutes, Hermione pulled back abruptly, making Ron groan slightly in disappointment. She, however, seemed completely unruffled, the most giant of grins affixed on her face.

"I have the most exciting news!" she said breathlessly. "You remember Nadia Eldewitz from the Ministry party last Boxing Day, don't you?" she asked, barreling forward before Ron had the chance to respond. "She's the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, you know. Well—she contacted me today, just after lunch."

Here Hermione paused expectantly, and Ron took a beat before he realized he was now allowed to take part in the conversation. "What did she have to say?" he asked, unable to keep the fatigue out of his voice.

Hermione went on, unperturbed. "She said she liked my performance in front of the Wizengamot last month—_impressive_, she said. And," Hermione paused for a breath, cheeks flushed, "she offered me a job—a really _good_ job as a junior prosecutor—in her Department!"

"That's—that's great," Ron said, mind reeling from this new information. She was getting a new job…? Now?

"That was convincing," Hermione said wryly as her smile faltered.

"Really," Ron said again, trying to sound as bright and cheery as Hermione looked, "it's great."

"_Great_?" Hermione mimicked. "It's bloody fantastic for someone my age to get that kind of offer, I'll have you know."

"I do know that, Hermione," Ron said through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry, I've just had a long day."

"Oh, you've had a long day, have you? Well then all's forgiven because Ron Weasley is surely the only one to have had a _long day_," Hermione began, working herself up to that dangerous point where her hair seemed to stand on end. "Let me tell you about a long day. I wake up at five when Teddy does because he's had another one of those horrible nightmares that make my stomach clench. And when I go in there, nothing I can do will settle him—_not one thing_. Then you waltz in there five minutes later and have him back to bed in no time, then tell _me_ I ought to go back to sleep and you'll stay with him. Do you think I actually slept after that? Well, it's not as though it mattered—who needs sleep when you go into the office in the morning to find that the negotiations with the giants are falling apart and Madame Maxime is breathing down your throat to do something to fix it? Not to mention the fact Ginny stormed in cursing your name because she was feeling awful and you had the audacity to tell her to go _shopping_! And you can't manage one tiny iota of excitement for me because you had a _LONG DAY_?"

"Well I'm sorry if you think I ought to throw a parade in your honor," Ron snapped, feeling the adrenaline wash through his veins and cut off any restraint he might have been holding onto. "I _am_ happy for you, alright? But you'll have to excuse me if I don't go jumping up and down for a job that's going to have you working longer hours and most likely spending even more energy on work than you already do when we're barely getting through the day as it is!"

Hermione looked at him, seemingly shocked for a moment. But her eyes darkened under his fiery stare and she said, with too much calm, "I thought you'd be pleased—if not for me, than for the extra money it will bring into the house."

Ron gaped at her, stung. "Do you honestly think that's all I worry about?" he cried. "Do you really and truly think that when we've been married for five months and we're still living in this blasted house because my best mate's off gallivanting to save the world again, and my little sister's gone and gotten knocked up, and there's a band of lunatics out roving through Britain and I couldn't stop them from killing the last family of a little six year old boy who can't stop having nightmares about the night _I_ failed him, and my brother is afraid he's going to lose me just like he lost Fred, and when I see how much you worry every day about all of us and try to make everything better but you can't because there's no way that this gets better anytime soon—do you really think that what I care about right now is _money_?"

Hermione didn't say anything but she held his gaze, her eyes clouded and glassy with unshed tears.

Ron couldn't take it—he was already starting to hate himself as the immediate flush of anger ebbed away, and he just couldn't stand seeing her like that. Feeling—and fearing—the familiar burning behind his own eyes, he walked past her and took the stairs two at a time to their room.

Crashing into the bathroom, Ron slammed the door behind him and sat heavily on the edge of the tub as his legs started shaking underneath him. What had he done…?

"Ron…?" came Hermione's tentative voice from the other side of the door. "Ron, please talk to me… I—I promise there aren't any canaries out here," she tried to laugh, but it died in her throat.

Ron sat in silence, hoping if he didn't answer she'd go away. He really didn't like to talk right after an argument—actually, neither did Hermione a good part of the time. But sometimes, when it was particularly bad, she had this _need_ to resolve things…

_Had it been that bad?_ Ron asked himself.

_Yes…_

Ron was still angry—not so much angry at Hermione, although there was still a fair amount of ire resonating from what they'd just said to each other. But really, Ron was growing steadily angrier at himself for losing control. Again. Hadn't he learned anything since he was 17?

_Yes…_ he answered himself again.

Ron was on the verge of convincing himself to just go to the door. Turn the handle. Talk to her. Step by step, do what he owed her. But just as Ron thought he'd worked up the courage to at least stand up, he heard a second voice join Hermione's on the other side of the door.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny's muffled voice was asking. "What did he do?" she asked again when there was no discernable response from Hermione. Still not getting a reply, Ginny seemed to take matters into her own hands. "Come on," she was saying smoothly, "lets get out of the house. We can… we can go _shopping_," she suggested, though she bit off the last word. Ron felt that she spit it right through the door at him.

Hearing the girls leave the room and the front door open and close a few minutes later, Ron sunk back into the tub's basin. He let out a deep sigh, mentally kicking himself harder and harder with each passing minute.

After allowing himself a few moments of self-loathing, Ron hoisted himself up, catching his reflection in the mirror as he did so.

"Well," he said morosely to his sullen image, "you've really done it this time."

* * *

Ron walked aimlessly through the house, not caring where his feet led him. It was only after a few minutes that he realized he'd come to a stop in front of Teddy's room.

"I'm glad you weren't here to see that," Ron said into the empty space before him. "Thank Godric Fleur likes teaching so much she agreed to take you on, too," Ron muttered, walking further in towards the small twin bed.

Ron sat gingerly on the blue quilt, a spot he had vacated only a few hours before. His eyes flickered to the picture on the nightstand, one of Teddy and Harry at Ted's 5th birthday party. "I'm sorry, mate," Ron said quietly, not entirely sure which person he was addressing. "I think I'm letting you down, here."

Ron averted his gaze, turning his attention to the open window. He sighed and walked over to the sill. "Ronald Weasley, you are a first class, royally commended, world-renowned _wanker_!" he cried out to the world. Maybe if he admitted it to the whole of London, he'd start to feel better…

_Well that's foolish_… he berated himself, turning back to the room. _What good does it do to admit it if you don't do anything to fix it?_

_Merlin, I need help!_

Ron stole a final glance at the photograph on the nightstand and set his shoulders—if help was what he needed, then it was time to go get it.

* * *

"Hullo!" Ron called loudly as he stepped out of the fireplace. "Mum! Dad! Anyone home?"

"Up here, son!" came Arthur's distant cry from somewhere above Ron's head.

Ron creased his brow and shrugged, heading up the stairs until he reached the last possible place his father could be without being on the roof. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up into the attic.

"Pugh!" Ron cried, holding his nose, "what is that foul stench?"

"Still haven't gotten rid of the ghoul's… erm… odor," Arthur said from the far corner. "You get used to it after awhile."

"Why would you want to?" Ron muttered, looking around at the dusty and cluttered attic. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

"Just looking for something…" Arthur said distractedly. "Don't tell your mother," he added quickly, "but I think I've found a way to—"

"Don't want to know Dad," Ron held his hands up quickly, "the less I know, the less Mum can drag out of me."

"Good point," Arthur laughed. "Look what I found, though."

Ron stepped forward carefully, reaching out for the object in Arthur's arms. "Is this Charlie's old guitar?" he asked wonderingly.

"It is indeed," Arthur said with a grin. "Right here next to that mangy drum set Bill used to play."

"I remember Mum finally gave up and put a Silencing charm on the room," Ron said, letting his mind run off with the memory. "Especially after they invited Percy to be the lead singer."

"I was glad they included him," Arthur said wistfully, "but Fred and George would _not_ let up on poor Perce."

"Said he wailed like a girl," Ron said, nodding.

"So," Arthur said, pulling them back to the present, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh," Ron balked, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he remembered, "it was nothing. Let me help you look for—for whatever it is…"

"Ron…?" Arthur said over his glasses.

"Really Dad, its fine."

"Ron, you are not as good at that as you think you are," Arthur smiled. "Here, have a seat."

Ron reluctantly joined his father on top of a long box by the window. "Well… Hermione and I…"

"You had a row?"

"Well, yea—and yes, I know that's not entirely unusual," Ron added at Arthur's raised eyebrows. "But this was different—this was… bad."

"What happened?" Arthur asked slowly, methodically wiping his glasses on his handkerchief.

Ron sighed and recounted the argument, looking at his hands so as not to have to meet his father's eyes. He was sure he'd only find disappointment there.

Arthur let out a low whistle when Ron had finished. "Well, that's… not what I would have expected," he said with that voice that, from his father, was worse than shouting. "I've been so proud of the way you've been handling things…"

Ron slowly raised his head as his heart dropped into his stomach. He already felt bad enough as it was, but to have his own father confirm it… "I know I mucked up, Dad, I just…"

"You've had a lot to juggle lately, son," Arthur said softly. "But yes, you mucked up."

Ron felt his face fall and immediately tried to hide it by turning to wipe the dust off of the old guitar.

A moment passed in which Ron was sure the conversation was over. He watched as Arthur twisted his wedding ring, deep in thought, before meeting Ron's eyes searchingly. After a few seconds hesitation, Arthur seemed to come to a decision. "Just like we all have, at one time or another," he added.

Ron's head shot up. "Not like this," he said, "you never let it get _this_ bad."

Arthur snorted. "Sure I did," he said. "Ron, we all make mistakes, say things we don't mean. I know you of all people know that."

"Yea, I do know…" Ron agreed, his ears turning pink with shame. "It's only that this is a really good thing for Hermione, and I didn't let her feel good about it."

"Sometimes good things are also quite scary," Arthur said kindly.

"What do you mean?"

"I remember when your Mum told me she was pregnant with Charlie—part of me was thrilled, of course, but the part that prevailed at that moment was the voice shouting that we'd only just had Bill and the War was heating up and how was I supposed to support another baby, not to mention protect them all."

Ron gaped at his father for a moment. "Well," he said slowly, "I guess I can understand that… but I bet Mum was less than pleased."

"Oh, you can say that again," Arthur laughed mirthlessly. "I'm lucky to still have all my appendages in the right place."

"So… what did you do?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Well, it wasn't the easiest thing… there has to be a fair amount of groveling involved," Arthur said seriously. "But you know what you need to do."

"I do?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Sure you do," Arthur said confidently, never missing the opportunity to impart some lesson upon his children the hard way.

Ron looked around the dingy attic for a moment, considering. "Well… I have to make it up to her, somehow."

"Right…"

"Show her that I really am happy for her, and that I'm sorry," Ron added under his father's encouraging gaze.

"Yes," Arthur said patiently.

"So…" Ron trailed off, eyes falling on the guitar in front of him once more. His mind was working furiously, searching for the best strategy to make this right. He was going to fix this; he was going to fix this _right now_. "Dad," he said quickly, as the plan congealed. "I've got a lot of work to do in the next, oh, three hours—think you can help me out?"

Arthur rose as Ron stood, clapping him on the back. "Absolutely," he said with a heartfelt smile. This was the most energy he'd seen in his youngest son in a long time.

"Excellent—we're going to need these instruments brought over to the house, I think… and we might as well use the guest list from our wedding…" Ron said, starting to pace. "And I'll go find Mum—where is she? Out back? Maybe she can start cooking… I'm sure Fleur and Audrey would help… George and Angelina can bring some things over from the shop… I'll pop by the Leaky Cauldron, maybe Hannah can lend us some Butterbeer and…"

* * *

Hermione followed Ginny aimlessly through Diagon Alley, through Madam Malkin's and the Witch's Wardrobe Warehouse (the _other_ WWW), through the Perfumery and the Apothecary. All the while Hermione couldn't bring herself to focus on whatever Ginny was talking about—though by the tone of her voice, it seemed to range from incensed to dejected and back to incensed again.

"Ginny?" Hermione said quietly after seven stores and no purchases. "Do you think we could just… sit down for a minute?"

Ginny looked back at her friend as if seeing her for the first time. "Sure," she replied, and led Hermione outside to a bench.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny couldn't seem to contain herself any longer. "What happened?" she blurted.

Hermione sighed and recounted the conversation—the argument—in something of a monotone.

"I don't get it," Ginny said slowly, "You obviously aren't thrilled, but… I'd be furious with him. I am sort of furious with him, come to that."

"I am… or I was," Hermione said carefully. "I don't know…"

"What is there to know, Hermione?"

"I don't _know_, I was mad then… and I still am, I suppose—but mostly because he won't talk to me. I hate _that_, I hate it when he just closes himself off," Hermione answered with frustration. "I know I'm supposed to be patient but why does he have to make it so bloody difficult, you know?"

"Oh, I have him and quite a few others for brothers, if you'll recall," Ginny said. "Not to mention I've been seeing Harry Potter for, oh, a few years. So yes, I know," she added with a sardonic grin. "But Hermione," she went on gently, "what's stopping you from going after him right now? I know you know when to back off, but it's not like you to just… shrink away."

"I guess… I guess I'm not too proud of myself either," Hermione admitted softly, looking at her hands. "I shouldn't have said that about the money…"

"Hermione, we all say things we regret sometimes, believe me," Ginny said, searching her friends face.

"Yes, but I knew what I was saying," Hermione mumbled. "And it was an ugly thing to do."

Ginny didn't answer but looked away, biting her lip thoughtfully.

"I just want him to _talk_ to me," Hermione said, only half-realizing she was thinking of more than just that afternoon.

Ginny looked back at her friend and stood, holding out her hand. "Okay then," she said gently, "let's go home."

* * *

When Hermione pushed the door open into the entry hall, she was surprised to find the house completely dark except for a single light flickering under the door at the end of the hall. Ginny turned on lamps behind her as Hermione made her way, frowning, to the single lit room. She was startled as she pushed open the drawing room door—

"Surprise!" came a chorus of happy voices.

"Well—I—I don't know what to say," Hermione sputtered as she was pulled further into the room with shouts of "Congratulations!" and "Job well done!" being thrown her way. Hermione even thought she saw her flustered but excited parents waving from a corner before her attention was drawn by the clanging of glasses to the young redhead standing on a table at the head of the room.

"Welcome, all!" Ron's voice boomed out over the small crowd. "I'm glad you could all make it—and on such short notice—to what I have affectionately dubbed, the Apolebration!" There was a smattering of chuckles around the room—Hermione, herself, couldn't help but let a corner of her mouth twist.

"You see," Ron continued, "this is—first and foremost—a celebration. A celebration, you see, because my lovely and talented wife has earned herself a very prestigious promotion at work—"

"Here! Here!" came a voice in the back, which was echoed by many around the room. Hermione found that she was blushing furiously.

"Yes, indeed!" Ron said, quieting everyone again. "And Hermione," he added, looking her straight in the eye, "you really are the cleverest witch I have ever seen." Many of the people in the room laughed appreciatively. "But folks," Ron continued, "I think you'll remember I called this little get-together an _Apol_ebration. I'm sure it won't surprise any of you to hear that I also owe my wife an apology tonight—she knows why, and if the Weasley grapevine is worth its salt, I suspect most of you will know by the end of the night as well." There was another chorus of laughter before Ron raised his voice again. "But honestly, love, I truly do apologize—and I hope that this will at least begin to make up for it." With that, Ron lifted his glass above his head. "To Hermione!" he called, as everyone joined him in drinking deeply from their goblets. "And now, everyone, if you'll permit a bit of childhood indulgence, I have arranged for your entertainment a little music—I give you," Ron said dramatically, hand poised on a rope to a set of curtains, "the Brothers Weasley!"

Hermione couldn't help but grin as the curtain dropped to reveal Bill behind a set of drums, Charlie with a guitar, and a very self-conscious Percy set to magically amplify his voice. "Thanks, thanks everyone!" Percy was saying nervously. "Oh, and George has just passed me a note—fireworks out back at 10!"

The brothers started playing, but Hermione was hardly listening, as Ron had just come to stand in front of her. His eyes were anxiously gauging her reaction as he worried his lip between his teeth. "I really am sorry, Hermione," he said quietly, so only she could hear.

"I'm sorry too," she responded, meeting his gaze.

"You? You have nothing to be sorry for," Ron said sincerely.

Hermione smiled. "You're sweet to say that," she said.

"Well it's true," Ron smiled in return. "So… Madame Prosecutor, feel up to a party?"

Hermione nodded, but hesitated to take his proffered arm.

Ron seemed to look at her thoughtfully for a moment. "And maybe later," he said softly, suddenly very interested in the carpet, "we can talk? Like we used to?"

Hermione felt a wide smile stretch across her features even as a lump seemed to lodge in her throat. "That's all I've ever wanted," she managed to say, taking Ron's arm and launching into the sea of well-wishers.

* * *

Ginny watched her friends fade in amongst the crowd. She felt a pang, watching them go, so happy together. It felt so wrong to be almost… _sad_ that they'd made up, but she couldn't help it.

_I bloody hate feeling this way…_ she huffed, moving out to the hallway. She leaned against the wall, feeling the vibration of the music underneath her head. She had to admit, Percy's singing voice had improved greatly since they were kids.

"Gin?" came a voice from the door as her eyelids flew open. "There you are," George said good-naturedly as he found her. "Gin," he repeated, "is something wrong?"

"It's just been a… long day, I suppose," Ginny said with irony, meandering through the hallway to the backdoor.

George didn't say anything as he followed her outside.

Ginny tilted her head back to examine the darkening sky. "I miss flying," she said quietly. "No matter what, I could always _think_ up there…"

"What's stopping you?" George asked.

"Another problem with getting bigger," Ginny said ruefully with a bitter glare at her midsection, "I've lost all sense of balance on a broom."

"Ah," George said, growing silent. "You know, if you want," he hesitated, "I'd be happy to take you up."

Ginny looked at him and sighed. "We're in the middle of Muggle London…"

"Disillusionment charms out to do the trick, it's getting plenty dark already," George said, just barely daring to push.

Ginny was quiet for a moment before striding purposefully to the broom shed. Without another word, she handed her broom to George with a raised eyebrow and a quirk of a smile.

Charms in place, brother and sister rose into the darkening sky. George flew slowly at first, but soon picked up speed, flying higher and higher. Ginny was glad—the wind in her face was the most familiar and calming sensation she knew. Other than the security of Harry's arms… but that wasn't an option right now.

"Feeling any better?" George asked after awhile.

"Yes," Ginny said. "I almost feel like myself up here."

"Almost?"

"Back there…" Ginny stopped, thinking. "Lately I've just felt so… aimless. I don't know what I'm doing anymore…"

Ginny could just make out George nodding thoughtfully. "I have an idea…" he said carefully. "You may not like it, but I think it could be good for you."

"Okay," Ginny responded, curious.

"Angelina has a good friend from her days in the Department of Magical Games and Sports—"

"I don't want to work for the Ministry," Ginny interjected quickly.

"Let me finish," George chuckled, "you're worse than Ron." Ginny rolled her eyes but didn't say anything else. "Anyhow," George continued, "Angelina's friend—Lena—she was the Prophet's liaison to the Department, reported on Quidditch mostly. Lena just quit, apparently—she's had triplets and doesn't think she's up to the balancing act at the moment."

Ginny's eyes widened as she clutched her stomach—she was glad there was only one baby in there. "So you want me to be a reporter?" she asked skeptically.

"Well it's worth looking into, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Ginny replied, not quite convinced. She'd always enjoyed writing, anyway… and Quidditch, of course.

"Want to go ask Ange about it?" George asked. She could hear the triumph in his voice.

"Sure," she said, slightly bemused. "But could we stay up here, just a little while longer?"

George complied, circling the buildings a few more times before taking them back to the ground. It was an odd feeling, Ginny thought, to land without seeing your feet.

Putting things back to rights, they headed into the house where the party was still carrying on nicely.

Finding Angelina chatting away with Oliver and Lee, George pulled her aside to explain the situation. Angelina lit up immediately and insisted she would ask Lena about it first thing tomorrow. Ginny smiled her thanks and slid away as Oliver called them back over, insisting Lee retell a story he was just recounting.

Smiling politely at those she passed, Ginny made her way to a quieter corner of the room and sat in the waiting armchair. People were milling into the halls and other rooms now, talking and laughing. Ginny felt detached from it all and focused on making herself as invisible as possible.

She watched her friends and family pass her by, consumed in their own conversations… That is, until she caught the eye of a young boy across the room.

Teddy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at her intently. She tried to smile at him, but found her mouth couldn't form the proper shape. Those eyes… she saw herself there, she thought. The melancholy that she hated to feel in her own heart was even harder to watch in Ted. But there was more than that… there was something smoldering… a rage and resentment just barely concealed below the surface.

Perhaps she wasn't alone in this house after all… Perhaps someone else felt as lost and abandoned as she did.

_Perhaps_ someone else was feeling the stirrings of that familiar and formidable foe… sidetracked as it was on its path through Number 12, but undeterred.

Ginny recognized it easily: anger, pure and not so simple.

* * *

**A/N: Well! That was at least a little quicker than usual on the update! Hope you enjoyed—please read and **_**review**_**!**


	7. December 2nd, 2004

**Author's Note: I have to thank Lisa (little0bird—read her stories, they're excellent) for some inadvertent inspiration on this one… so thanks for your insights into these characters!**

**I have to say I'm feeling more than a little uncertain about this one, but in the interest of moving forward… Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy—please read and **_**review**_**!**

Chapter Seven: December 2nd, 2004

_A friend is, as it were, a second self. _Marcus Tullius Cicero

* * *

"_Harry! Harry please! Please let me out…!" Ginny cried, futilely rattling the heavy doorknob. "Please, I promise—I promise I won't come after to you," she practically sobbed, pushing her full weight against the dark, unmoving door._

_She heaved a shaky sigh and rattled the doorknob again. "Harry! Don't leave like this—please, just let me out of here! Let me see you…! Please…" she breathed, slumping backward as the door continued to rattle mockingly. But… Why…? Why was it rattling…? He left… he _left_—why was it rattling…?_

Ginny woke slowly, comprehension dawning as she heard the rattling sound follow her out of her subconscious. _I must have worked it into my dream…_ she thought blearily, glancing at the clock and reading 4 a.m.

The sound of the door rattling came again. This time, it seemed to jar Ginny's tired mind into wakefulness as fear washed like ice through her veins and she scrambled out of bed, reaching for her wand. Clutching her dressing robe around her expanding abdomen, she cautiously opened her bedroom door. She didn't stop to think about who might be trying to get into the house. She didn't stop to think at all. She just _did_.

It felt so good, regardless of the circumstances. To Ginny, at that moment, there were no circumstances.

Adrenaline pumping furiously, Ginny made her way slowly down the stairs, careful to sidestep the squeakier boards.

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her when she saw who was at the door.

Teddy, clad in an old pair of Cannons pajamas, stood toe to toe with the wood panels. Ginny watched as he twisted the knob back and forth, trying with all his might to swing the hinges.

"Going somewhere?" Ginny asked quietly when she found her voice.

Teddy whipped around at the sound of her voice, cheeks turning scarlet as Ginny made her way down the rest of the stairs. "No, I was…" Teddy began, but the rest of his answer was too mumbled to understand.

Ginny reached out to tilt his chin up but he shied away stubbornly. "Ted…" she began, trying to be patient. "You know you should be in bed. And you know you shouldn't be trying to get out, pulling on the door and scaring me half to death."

"I know… sorry…" Teddy muttered, still gazing at his feet.

Ginny frowned. "So why were you doing it then?"

"I just wanted to check the door was locked," he responded.

"The first fifty tries weren't a clue that it was shut tight?" Ginny asked archly.

Teddy shrugged, still refusing to meet her gaze. "Had to make sure…"

Ginny's frown deepened. It was such a poor excuse, she thought, that maybe… Maybe it was true. "No one bad is getting in here," she said carefully, hoping her suspicions weren't right.

Ginny's heart sunk as a single tear plopped onto Teddy's bare toes. "You don't know…" he said.

"Yes I do," Ginny said with more confidence than she felt. "Hey," she added, kneeling down to Ted's level and reaching a hand to his small shoulder, "you're safe here, I promise."

"Don't," Teddy said in a small, dark voice, pulling away from her reach.

"Teddy," Ginny began, hurt and saddened by the anger in his voice. _He used to be so… happy…_ she thought as she reached out for him again.

"Don't touch me!" he cried and ran into the drawing room.

Ginny made to follow him in but stopped short. She knew he was angry. She _knew _that. She'd recognized it before, a month ago, at least. She'd recognized it because she felt it too. And she wanted to help him—_Godric _she wanted to help him. But without helping herself, she felt like…

"A hypocrite," she muttered.

Ginny rocked on her heels for a moment longer before coming to a decision. If she was going to help Teddy than _she_ would just have to swallow her pride and ask for help herself. Ginny started to turn to the stairs, thinking of waking Ron and Hermione, but something stopped her.

Turning again, Ginny brushed off the nagging suspicion that she just didn't _want_ their help and the even more nagging worry at just _why_ that would be…

_They're just not the right ones for the job this time… _she reasoned. _So who is…?_

Ginny couldn't help that her mind immediately went to Harry—who was, of course, the perfect person to relate to Teddy at this particular moment, but he wasn't…

"Perfect person my freckled white arse…" Ginny grumbled mutinously. She trekked down to the kitchen and threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, realizing she did know someone who might just be up to the task…

"George!" Ginny called softly into the shadowed flat. "_George!_" she hissed again.

"Ginny…?"

"Ange! I'm sorry, I, er…" Ginny fumbled, realizing how desperate she must be to be calling at his hour.

"Are you alright?" Angelina asked concernedly as she knelt in front of the hearth.

"I'm fine," Ginny said quickly. "I'm sorry, I know it's late—or early—but I… I was hoping to get George's help with something."

Angelina's expression knitted somewhere between raised eyebrows and a furrowed brow, but she nodded. "I'll wake him up, then," she said and walked back to the master bedroom.

George emerged a few moments later, looking distinctly harried. "Gin?" he asked, just barely concealing his alarm. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Ginny swore inwardly… this was a stupid way to go about this. "Calm down, George," she said soothingly, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Well…" George said uncertainly. "Ange said you needed something…?"

Ginny sighed. "It's… Teddy. He's fine," she added quickly, "he's just so… well, angry. I thought you might be able to get through to him better than I could…" she finished, training her eyes on their rug.

"Okay…" George agreed with a worried twitch of his mouth. "I'll come now."

"Thanks, George," Ginny said with a sad smile. "Apologize to Angelina for me."

"Don't worry about it," George replied, standing as Ginny pulled out of the grate.

Ginny stood in the kitchen, waiting for the flames to turn again. Her mind wandered to the boy upstairs, hoping she was doing the right thing for him. For herself…

* * *

By the time Ron and Hermione had heard Teddy downstairs, Ginny had already beaten them to the punch. Hovering on the landing, Ron's instinct had been to help his sister when he saw how hurt she was by Teddy's actions. Yet he knew better than to approach her at that moment. Instead, he stole back into his room when Ginny looked to be following Teddy into the drawing room. "I think Gin's got it under control," Ron said sleepily as he crawled back into bed.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, twisting the duvet between her fingers. "Teddy didn't sound—"

"I know," Ron interjected, sitting up a little more in bed. "But let her take care of it for once, I'm beat…"

"Ron…" Hermione sighed admonishingly.

"Yea…" Ron said grudgingly, pulling Hermione back down to the mattress beside him. "But we should at least let her try, don't you think?"

Hermione looked away as she snuggled into Ron's warm embrace. "You think it would be good for her?"

Ron considered this. He wasn't sure what he thought would be good for his baby sister. "Maybe," he said finally. "She hasn't been herself lately… and Teddy…"

Hermione turned back to her husband and Ron's breath hitched at the look in her eyes. "I think he was making sure we were all safe in here…" she said quietly.

"With the door?"

"I used to do the same thing when I was a kid," Hermione said, looking away again. "Religiously checked all the locks before I went to bed… I was convinced that if I didn't check and something happened, I'd be responsible."

Ron frowned. "How many times did you check them?"

"Not as many as Teddy apparently did…" Hermione admitted. "But I was never attacked in my own home," she added softly.

Ron tightened his grip around Hermione's waist as she turned back to him. "The two of them…" she started, trailing off. "Are you scared?" she breathed.

Ron bit the inside of his mouth, pulling Hermione to his chest. He stroked her hair, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. She leaned her head back, the question still in her eyes. Ron met her gaze, and nodded.

Hermione chewed her lip and pulled Ron close this time. They lay there for awhile in silence, listening for any development downstairs. It wasn't long before Ron caught the strains of a familiar baritone drifting up the stairwell.

"George is here," Ron said into Hermione's curls. He had to admit he felt a little better knowing his brother was there, even though it made him feel a bit guilty for not being down there himself.

Silence ensued for a few moments more before Hermione spoke into Ron's chest. "Do you know what today is?"

"Er…" Ron searched his brain. "December 2nd…?"

Hermione nodded. "Happy six months…"

Ron sighed and swept another kiss across Hermione's brow. "Happy six months, love."

* * *

"I'm sorry to have woken you," Ginny said once she and George were standing outside the drawing room.

"Stop apologizing, Gin."

Ginny bit her lip and looked at her brother, wondering if it was fair to expect this of him. "Well…" she said at last, "I really appreciate it."

George smiled then, and led the way into the dimly lit room. Quickly lighting a few lamps, George came to stand just inside the door. "Would you mind if we came in?" George asked tentatively in the direction of Teddy's drooped head.

Teddy's head snapped up at the sound of George's voice, but he quickly tried to conceal his surprise. "I s'pose…"

"Thanks, mate," George said good-naturedly, coming to sit in an arm chair across from Ted. "See, it's awfully early, and I'm pretty tired. I don't know about you…"

Ginny caught George's eye when Teddy didn't respond. George was usually so good at drawing Teddy out… Ginny came to stand next to Teddy at the edge of the couch. "Would it be okay if I sat there?" she asked, indicating the spot next to him. Teddy just shrugged. "We could just sit if you like," she continued tentatively. "You used to love to sit with me for hours when you were very little."

"'M not little anymore," Teddy said insolently.

"No," Ginny agreed, sitting down anyway. Teddy didn't object. Ginny leaned back and watched George consider them carefully.

Finally, George spoke. "Teddy… you see that tapestry behind you?"

Teddy looked above him on the wall. "Sure," he said, "it's the Black family tree. I've seen it thousands of times."

"Yea," George said patiently. He was standing now, walking over to their side of the room. "Has Harry ever told you more about it?"

"Like what?" Teddy asked, somewhat failing to hide his curiosity.

"Well, they're your family, for one. Did you know that?" George replied.

Teddy squirmed in his seat to examine the tapestry more carefully, nodding slowly. Ginny remembered when Harry had tried to explain it to Teddy one day, much as she knew Sirius had explained it to Harry. Harry hadn't been much more successful than his own godfather at keeping a trace of bitterness out of his voice.

"You see those holes, there?" George said as Teddy poked his finger through the wand-scorched sections. "That one was Harry's godfather, Sirius," George indicated. "And right here," he added, indicating a blank spot, "would've been your Mum… And right here," he said at last, "was your Grandmum's name."

Ginny watched carefully as Teddy kept his eyes trained on the tapestry. "They're not there now," Teddy said quietly.

"No," George agreed sadly. "And I know sometimes it feels like someone—a bad someone—blasted a hole right through your heart like they did through this tapestry, and that hurts. Does that make sense?"

Teddy nodded, eyes wide and solemn.

"And it's okay to be angry at the people who did that to you," George said slowly. "And it's okay to be angry at the people that left…" he added. Ginny didn't miss the surreptitious glance George threw in her direction. "But the good people—they didn't do the blasting, and they didn't want to leave us," George continued, swallowing hard. "The thing about this tapestry, though, is the bad person that blasted off the names—they couldn't get rid of the lines between them, see?"

Teddy turned back to the heavy brocade, tracing the gold lines that connected the charred spots.

"So even between all the bad things and the bad people they still had each other, right?" George went on. "If this tree was big enough, you'd even see my name and Ginny's on there too."

"Really?" Teddy asked, looking around.

"Really. When someone leaves, there are always other people to fall back on, people who care about you."

"Remembering that can be hard," Ginny whispered, looking at the space where Sirius' name should have been.

"Sometimes I forget…" Teddy mumbled, sinking back to the cushions.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Sometimes…" Teddy struggled, "sometimes I forget to be… angry or… or sad. Just for a second," he finished, looking at his lap.

George gulped and kneeled down to Teddy's height. "That's what you're supposed to do. It might only be for a second, at first, but that's what helps it get easier."

"You'll never forget _her_, Ted," Ginny added, daring to reach out to smooth the hair from his temple, as she had when he was a baby. She felt her body relax a little when he didn't pull back.

"Teddy," George said seriously, "I want you to listen to me. If you can hear this now, you'll have learned this lesson a lot sooner than I did. It is _okay_ to be happy, alright?" George searched Teddy's eyes until he got a nod in response. "Someone had to tell me that too," George smiled.

Ginny frowned, trying to remember—snatches of a story George had told her of a conversation between him and Ron so many years before surfacing in her mind.

"Can we just sit, now?" Teddy asked softly. "Like you said?"

"Sure," Ginny said soothingly, continuing to brush back his hair as he leaned back on the couch. It was a start, she thought, but it wasn't over yet.

* * *

"It's been quiet for awhile," Hermione whispered into the room as it began to fill with dawn's early rays. "Do you think we ought to go check on them?"

Ron was quiet for a moment. "I reckon we should," he said at last, extricating himself from the blankets and tossing Hermione her dressing gown.

Hermione pulled on the robe and slowly opened the door. Once on the landing, she caught sight of George tiptoeing past the banister downstairs. She watched as Ron came out behind her and the two brothers locked eyes for a moment before nodding almost imperceptibly. Hermione sighed—she had about a million questions, but now was apparently not the time. Sometimes, she swore she'd never understand these boys.

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, George had already left—presumably to the kitchen and home. Hermione followed Ron as he made his way to the drawing room, where a few lamps were still flickering. She had to sidle past him, perplexed, when he stopped suddenly in the doorway.

She glanced at the sleeping forms of Teddy and Ginny—still with a hand loosely draped across his head—on the brocade sofa. Hermione turned back to Ron, whose expression was quickly blossoming into a concerned frown, but he seemed unwilling or unable to move farther.

Sighing, Hermione strode to the couch, deftly scooping her arms around Teddy's small frame and lifting him up. Her heart warmed as he subconsciously tightened his grip around her shoulders and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Stopping in the doorway, she said to the still immobile Ron, "would you owl Fleur and ask if she can pick him up after lunch—before Gin has to go take that interview?" Ron nodded absently, which Hermione took as the most response she was going to get.

Quickly depositing Teddy in his bed, Hermione made her way back downstairs, meeting Ron in the hallway. "You sent the note?" she asked. Ron nodded, the distant look still mingled with a knit brow. "What is it?" she added, pulling him to a stop before the entered the drawing room.

Ron didn't answer straight away. Hermione fleetingly wondered if this was going to be when Ron closed himself off again, but she needn't have worried too much. "I don't know…" he said at last. "She looks… she looks like Harry did, when she sleeps."

Now it was Hermione's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"She looks like there's something wrong—troubled, I guess," Ron said slowly. "She always looked… I don't know, _peaceful_, before."

Hermione, for once, didn't know what to say. She settled for squeezing her husband's hand and leading him back into the room.

"Ginny…" Hermione said softly, gently shaking her friend's shoulder. "Ginny, wake up…"

"Huh…?" Ginny said sleepily, looking around. She flushed slightly when she took in her surroundings. "I was just…" she started to say.

"We know," Hermione said quickly. "Is everything…?"

"Fine, yea," Ginny said shortly as Ron and Hermione took a seat across from her. "So," she added quickly, obviously looking for a change of subject, "today's a big day, right?"

Ron and Hermione shared a small smile before Hermione nodded an affirmative. "Married six months—I can hardly believe it," she said.

"Neither can I…" Ginny said, almost to herself. Then, "You know, you two really ought to go on that honeymoon you never go to take—get out of the city, out of this house."

Hermione shot Ron the briefest of glances before he said, "Oh, I couldn't possibly—not with the shop, and the holidays coming up…"

"Sure you could," Ginny was wheedling, "George would understand."

"I don't know…" Hermione said uncertainly. She really didn't think it was a good idea to leave Ginny on her own, considering...

"Come on," Ginny said, obviously losing patience. "I think I'll survive in the house without you."

"But Harry asked—" Hermione began, but Ginny cut her off.

"I don't care what Harry said!" Ginny was suddenly on her feet. "Do you two always do what he asks you? Well?!"

Ron and Hermione were momentarily speechless at her outburst, and Ginny took the opportunity to plow forward with her momentum. "Oh, that's right, I forgot—you _do_. You do everything that dear little Harry asks of you—no regard for your own sanity, much less what _I _want! I'm your bloody sister for Merlin's sake!" she shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Ron.

"It's not like we didn't already live here, Ginny," Ron retorted, now on his feet as well.

"What Ron meant to say, and what _I _meant to say," Hermione interjected, rising between the siblings, "is that we're here because we care about you. Yes, Harry asked—but he really didn't have to. We don't want to leave you alone at a time like this. Do you really _want_ to be alone right now?"

"Maybe I do!" Ginny said stubbornly, crossing her arms. "When I moved into this house, I thought things were better. But now I see it's still just the three of you—maybe I'm alone already!"

"Ginny, that's not fair," Ron said angrily, his ears bright red. "Just because you're mad at Harry, don't take it out on us—we're just trying to help!"

"Maybe I don't need your help!"

Hermione felt the conversation spinning out of control, but she couldn't seem to get a word in edgewise. Helplessly, she watched as Ron's hands began to quiver with suppressed energy. "_Look_," he said forcefully, "just because you need a little help doesn't mean you're weak or helpless."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!" Ginny scoffed.

Ron's ears grew scarlet. "Oh, yea? Well then did you stop to think that if _I'm_ telling you that, then maybe it's a hard lesson worth learning?"

"I think I've learned enough for today," Ginny said coldly. "I have an interview, excuse me." And with that, she swept out of the room.

Hermione swiftly pulled Ron to the vacated couch in Ginny's wake. He was still shaking like a leaf.

"I didn't mean to yell at her like that," he said miserably, putting his head in his hands.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm not saying I wouldn't have handled it a bit differently… but maybe it was the only way she was going to hear it."

"Maybe…"

"I can't believe she _thinks_ that, though…" Hermione wondered aloud. Ron's head shot up at the quiver in her voice.

"Hey," he said, reaching out for her. "Don't let Gin get to you… you know how we Weasleys can be."

"Yea," Hermione agreed, trying to smile and failing spectacularly. "I just thought we were past that… I thought she knew that she's not on the outside anymore. I know she's mad at Harry for leaving, whether she realizes it or not. But I didn't think… I didn't think that _we_…"

"Shh…" Ron soothed, pulling Hermione close to him. "What else can we do?"

* * *

Ginny threw her bag onto the floor, dropping onto the couch she'd vacated some hours before. It had been a very tiresome day.

There was the interview of course, which took forever because of the over-long practice session. Then the editor wanted the copy tonight… It was tiring, no doubt about it.

But Ginny knew she's purposely stayed out until she thought Ron and Hermione would be asleep, so she could come home without having to face them. _Why, oh _why_ did you have to yell at them like that? _Ginny berated herself for the millionth time that day.

The fact of the matter was, Ginny had instantly regretted their argument that morning. She may have even regretted it as it was happening, but her mouth seemed to have been two steps ahead of her brain.

Ginny realized she was mad at Harry for leaving. She was mad at the world for conspiring to take him away from her again. But she hadn't seen the effect it was truly having on her—she hadn't recognized the old insecurities being dredged to the surface. There was the feeling of inferiority, of being left out—left behind. Of being conspired against because she was too young, too inexperienced, too… precious. That suspicion Harry thought more of Ron and Hermione than he did of her. She hated being thought of as so _delicate_.

Ginny turned to look at the Black family tree, thinking of what George had said that morning. That it was okay to be angry, but the blame—she wasn't being fair… Ginny traced her finger around the charred remnants of where Sirius' name had been. She remembered how his anger had consumed him, made him bitter and reckless. She knew that seed had been within Harry at one time or another in his life, she'd seen it in her brothers before, too… and now it was growing within her. She knew Ron and Hermione recognized it—wanted to help her stop it from spreading. Ginny paused, tracing the golden threads that George had referenced that morning. _Someone to fall back on…_ Ginny thought, involuntarily searching the ceiling, or perhaps the room above it.

Cursing her pride, Ginny vowed to apologize in the morning. But at that moment, all she wanted to do was sleep…

* * *

Ginny woke suddenly, startled into consciousness by the feeling of a hand on her stomach. Within seconds, she had her own fingers clenched around the intruder's wrist.

"Oi!" came a familiar voice.

"Harry?!" Ginny nearly shouted, just barely remembering to keep her voice down. She was now fully awake, pulling herself quickly into a sitting position on the couch where she'd fallen asleep.

"Just look at you…" Harry said, unable to keep from smiling like a madman as she allowed him to rest his hand on her swollen abdomen again.

"Did you know?" Ginny asked quietly, before she could stop herself.

"Well, I…" Harry replied sheepishly, removing his hand from her belly. "I guessed, that day at the Burrow… and then after the night—with Andromeda… Sterdem said something, but… I couldn't… I'm sorry…"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, a battle raging inside her. Everything she'd been feeling for the last few months told her to rail against this man in front of her until there was nothing left. But now that she was actually faced with him… "What are you doing here?" she asked at last.

"They sent me on an errand—it was one of those perfect opportunities—I don't know, right place, right amount of time… I can only stay for a few minutes, but I just—I had to—"

"Oh, come here," Ginny cut him off, giving in to… to her hormones at least. Pulling him close, she kissed him deeply.

When they pulled apart, Harry was blushing furiously. "That was…" he trailed off.

"Don't think you deserved that," Ginny said quickly.

"I expect not," Harry agreed lightly enough, though she saw the spark of disappointment in his eyes.

The pair sat for a moment before Ginny sighed inwardly. "I suppose I should get Ron and Hermione," she said, starting to get up.

Harry pulled her back down, practically into his lap. "Don't worry about them," he said softly.

"But—don't you want to see them?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"Well it's not as though I don't want to," Harry said carefully. "But I only have a few minutes…"

"And…?"

"And I want to see you," Harry replied emphatically. Ginny knew it was slightly irrational, but even after trying to reason past her insecurities, Harry's presence—those words… it was really what she needed to hear.

"You have to know," Harry continued when Ginny didn't respond, "I don't want to be gone. I don't want to miss _this_," he added with a tender caress of her stomach. "But that's what—_who_—I'm doing it for. It has to be better this time around… it _has_ to be."

"I know…" Ginny said, brushing her finger across his cheek. "But I don't have to like it, do I?"

"No, I suppose not," Harry said with a ghost of a smile.

Ginny lowered her head to Harry's shoulder, relishing being in his arms again. She wasn't quite ready to forgive him for leaving, for going off to save the world at the expense of their relationship… She still wasn't quite sure she trusted that he thought she was capable of taking care of herself… But in that moment, she couldn't pull away. She didn't know how long—how many more days and months—this single embrace would have to sustain her.

"I've missed you so much," Harry said softly into her hair.

"I've missed you too," Ginny replied, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. As she did so, she caught sight once more of the Black tapestry. It put her in mind of the morning's events once more. "Teddy…" she sighed, "you really should see Teddy before you go."

Ginny watched as the flash of guilt shone in Harry's eyes before he nodded. "Come with me?" he asked, standing and holding out his hand.

"Of course," Ginny said, taking his hand in hers and following him to Ted's room.

Ginny stopped in the doorway as Harry made his way to Teddy's bedside.

"Ted…" Harry whispered softly until Teddy opened his eyes, still heavy with sleep.

"Harry!" he exclaimed sleepily.

"Hullo there, mate," Harry said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "How ya doing?"

Teddy shrugged noncommittally. Ginny marveled at how relatively honest Teddy almost always was with Harry.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around lately," Harry said solemnly. "I know things have been tough on you… Your Grandmum," he continued, swallowing hard, "she'd be so proud of the way you're holding up."

"Are you back for good?" Teddy asked, his gray eyes bright.

"Not this time," Harry replied sadly.

"Please don't go," Teddy practically whimpered, suddenly throwing his arms around Harry's neck. Ginny so fervently wished she could do the same thing, but she wouldn't let herself. Part of her was afraid that he really wouldn't go, and end up resenting her forever. Besides, if something else… well, she couldn't be responsible for that.

"I have to," Harry choked, and Ginny felt her breath catch with his. "I'm so sorry, Ted… I'm so sorry…" he trailed off, rubbing Teddy's small back as he held him tight. After a few moments, Harry pulled away gently. "I have to go now, Teddy. I'll be home soon, though, you'll see."

"No," Teddy pleaded, holding on tight.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, detaching himself from Teddy's arms, which seemed to go limp as he resigned himself to his pillow. "It'll get better," he added softly, "I promise."

"You promise?" Teddy asked in a small voice.

"I promise," Harry repeated with a reassuring smile, making his way back to the hallway. Ginny followed him out, closing the door behind her. She didn't miss the haunted look in Harry's eyes. "It's not supposed to be this way," he said despondently, "this isn't supposed to happen…"

"You'll make it better," Ginny said quietly, encouragingly. "This one," she said with a hand to her stomach, "will know a better world than we grew up in."

Harry's hand joined Ginny's over their unborn child. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked huskily.

"I don't know," Ginny murmured, "I thought I'd wait and see."

"If it's a boy, will you name him James?" Harry asked, eyes glassy.

"You'll be back to name him yourself," she responded tearily.

Harry simply nodded solemnly. "I have to…" he said, gesturing to the front door below them. "I'm sorry."

Ginny found she didn't trust her voice, so she pulled Harry to her once more. He kissed her tenderly before pulling away.

"I love you," he said, even as he pulled a flask out of his pocket.

"I love you," she answered, hanging back as he began to walk downstairs, transforming into his Polyjuice disguise as he went. He held up a small wave, but wouldn't turn the unfamiliar face to look at her, before turning on the spot with a small 'pop.'

Ginny let out a shuddering breath as he Disapparated, holding a shaking hand to her lips.

It took her several minutes to get her breathing under control, and when she did, she found herself staring at Teddy's door. Sighing, she pushed it open and went to sit on the edge of Ted's mattress.

"Did he go again?" came Teddy's voice in the darkness.

"Yes," Ginny responded.

"Everybody goes…" Teddy said.

Ginny felt a prickling at the corner of her eyes as she reached out for Teddy's hunched form. Pulling her to him, she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere."

Ginny continued to rock the small boy back and forth, even as she felt her shoulder dampen with his tears.

* * *

Ron hesitated at Teddy's open door. Ginny had made it so painfully clear that she didn't want their help, but… Hermione squeezed his hand encouragingly and Ron cleared his throat. Ginny's head whipped around in response.

"We heard voices…" Ron said lamely. "Could we come in?"

"Sure," Ginny said softly as Teddy pulled back slightly, but remained cradled in her arms.

Ron allowed himself to be led to the bed where he and Hermione perched on the edge opposite Ginny and Ted.

"Did something…?" Hermione questioned gently.

Ginny looked down at Teddy before meeting Hermione's gaze. "Harry was here," she said bluntly.

"What?" Ron sputtered as Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"Is he alright? Where did he go?" Hermione asked, voice high.

"He's fine, I guess," Ginny said, explaining the fortuitous circumstances that had left an opening for Harry's surprise visit. "He could only stay a moment…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"I'm glad you got to see him, then," Ron said sincerely. Truly, he was glad Harry had had the sense to use whatever time he had to see Ginny—and Teddy, too. Ginny smiled appreciatively.

"Quite a day, eh, Ted?" Hermione asked softly. Teddy simply nodded. "You know…" Hermione began to add, "when we were younger, Ron and Harry and I had to stay in this house when there were some frightening things going on… we even spent a night all together downstairs. It always made me feel better… What do you think, should we give it a try?"

Teddy considered Hermione for a moment before nodding again.

"Good," Hermione said with a small smile, pointing her wand towards the door. "There are some mattresses and pillows down in the drawing room now—why don't you go arrange them how you like?"

"Okay," Teddy said, smiling a little under red-rimmed eyes, and scurrying downstairs.

Ron squeezed Hermione's hand proudly as they made their way after him.

Ginny stopped the pair before they entered the room. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved this morning…" she said genuinely.

"It's okay…" Hermione replied.

"No," Ginny insisted, "it's not. I shouldn't have taken everything out on you two like that. I know… I know I don't always show it, but I do appreciate your help. Most of the time," she added with a small smirk in Ron's direction. "I mean… with Harry—I know you don't always pick his side over mine… Hermione, you know I wouldn't have even gotten to the point of being able to date him, much less all this, if it wasn't for you. And Ron, you made bloody well sure he wasn't yanking me around…"

Ron raised his eyebrows at his, but smiled in return.

"I don't always take kindly to the assistance, I know. But I do know you care," Ginny finished.

"That's all we ask, really," Hermione said with a smile.

"I understand, Gin, _believe me_," Ron added with a grin.

"Thanks," Ginny said, finally leading the way into the drawing room. Ron held Hermione back a moment, searching her eyes. He was relieved to find that she looked somewhat reassured.

Entering the room fully, Ron realized with a pang that Teddy had arranged the beds carefully around his own, smaller one. Ginny had already settled onto the far bed and Ron and Hermione quickly crawled into the others.

The lights off, Ron swiftly found Hermione's hand in the darkness, much as he had so many years before. He was glad she'd had this idea tonight—there was something… comforting about it, about all being together. Judging by the sounds around him—small whimpers from Teddy in his sleep and a lack of even breathing tones that told him Ginny still lay awake—they could use all of the comfort they could get.


	8. January 2nd, 2005

**Author's Note: Since it has been an abysmally long time since I updated this story (so very sorry for that, life is complete and utter craziness at the moment) I thought it might be helpful to some to have a brief recap of the main events thus far… **

_**The story begins on Ron and Hermione's wedding day, about 6 years after the events of DH. At the last moment, Harry reveals to the happy couple that he must leave for an undercover assignment that night. His job will be to disguise himself in order to infiltrate a rising Death Eater cell. In order to make Harry's absence from his normal life credible, everyone must believe that he's flown the coop. Therefore, other than Ginny (who Harry has been avoiding telling), no one else can know.**_

_**Harry does eventually come clean with Ginny before he leaves, and swallows one more fear by proposing to her as well. She accepts, even though this, too, will be a secret for the sake of Harry's mission. Ron and Hermione agree not to move out of Grimmauld Place until Harry returns as a support to Ginny.**_

_**Ginny soon finds that she is pregnant, and tells the family. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are all showing the strain of living with secrets and worry about Harry. There is also the constant rising threat, which eventually results in a battle at the home of Teddy and Andromeda and the latter's untimely death to save her grandson. Harry arrives too late to stop it, and despite Ron's protests, insists on remaining with the new Death Eaters in the hopes of bringing them down. Kingsley, on finding that the three know of Harry's assignment, reveals that Harry is alright but has had to begin a new cover (possibly postponing his return home).**_

_**Naturally, these events take their toll on the family, especially Teddy. Following a custody hearing, guardianship over Teddy is awarded to Ron and Hermione. Hermione's performance in the hearing also leads to her being awarded a promotion to work in law at the Ministry. Ron is often found to be suffering from a crisis of self-confidence, and Hermione hasn't been feeling adequate in her role as surrogate mother. Ginny, of course, is feeling a bit lost, as well as more than a little angry.**_

_**Although most of the Weasleys trust that Harry didn't just run off, George is particularly troubled by the situation in which his brother and sister find themselves. Though he'd like to, Ron resists telling George in order to protect Harry. Yet Ron ultimately decides that with the added responsibility of Teddy, it would be best for Ginny to have someone else to confide in—George therefore knows the basic story.**_

_**In the latest chapter, Ginny is finally able to get through to Teddy—and herself—with some help from George. She and Ted also have the benefit of a surprise, middle of the night visit from Harry. He's taken a big risk and can only stay a few minutes, reassuring them all—but making it all the more difficult when he leaves again.**_

**Well, that's about it—thanks to Dodger Gilmore for her assistance with that (if you all haven't read her stories, you should—they're great!) I hope it was helpful—it glosses over a lot, but I suppose it's better than nothing! I know it's hard to remember a story with everything else I'm sure you're reading. **

**And now, without further ado, the actual chapter you came to see…**

* * *

Chapter Eight: January 2nd, 2005

_There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere. _Jane Austen

* * *

­"So…" Hermione began with a playful grin as she stepped out of the shower, "it's already the second day of the new year and you haven't told me what your resolutions are yet."

Ron raised his eyebrow as he poked his head from behind the curtain, tossing Hermione a towel. "Well, I think I'll resolve to take more showers, for one thing," he quipped.

Hermione laughed, blushing, and swatted the towel at Ron's bare chest. He barely had time to step out of shower, however, before the patter of little feet reached their ears from the hallway.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Teddy was calling excitedly.

"Oh!" Hermione yelped, pulling on her robe and stepping into the bedroom, trying not to wince as she slammed the door in Ron's face not a moment before Teddy came rushing into their room. _No need to scar the boy for life…_ she reasoned, putting on a smile. "What have you got there?" she asked this little boy as he waved a stiff piece of paper at her.

"Look what came in the post!" Teddy exclaimed, handing Hermione the paper. It was the picture that had been taken of the family a few days previous at Christmas dinner. Molly must have sent over the copy she promised, Hermione thought.

"Well this is very nice," Hermione smiled.

"I particularly like the red and green hair, Ted," Ron said from behind her, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel firmly around his waist.

"Thanks!" Teddy said, now pulling a weighty leather volume from behind his back. "Can you put it in my album, Hermione, please?" he asked earnestly.

"Sure," Hermione said, feeling her eyes water for just a second. Teddy had been carrying the picture album with him everywhere since she'd given it to him on Christmas morning. She was surprised she hadn't thought of it before, really. Hermione had been searching for a book in Grimmauld Place's extensive library, when she came across the album Hagrid had given to Harry so many years before. Remembering how much it had meant to her friend, Hermione wasted no time in gathering pictures of Remus and Tonks, Andromeda, the Weasleys, and their friends and filling the pages of a new volume for Teddy.

She wasn't sure if it would mean much to him, at six, but she was rewarded by the awed look on his face as he carefully flipped through the pages. Her breath caught in her throat a little every time she saw him just staring intently at the waving figures. It reminded Hermione so much of Harry that she desperately wished he was there to look through it with his godson, or to have given it to Teddy himself.

And now, as Hermione led Teddy over to the bed and to her wand, which lay on the nightstand, she couldn't help but feel a little twinge in her heart that he'd come to her. With a smile, she pulled Teddy onto the high mattress. "Now where would you like it?" she asked, wand poised to charm it to the chosen parchment.

Teddy slowly flipped the pages until he came to one towards the end, pointing a little finger at the empty space.

"You got it," Hermione smiled, affixing the picture with a silent spell. "There you are, then," she said, handing it back.

"Thanks, Hermione!" Teddy said brightly, giving her a quick hug and bounding off the bed and out the door. Hermione stared after him as he went.

"I change my resolution," Ron said quietly from where he still stood in the bathroom doorway.

"Oh you do?" Hermione said with a slightly watery smile.

"I resolve to see _that_ more often," Ron replied, coming to sit next to Hermione on the unmade bed.

"See what?"

"See _you_ being a mother," Ron said huskily.

Hermione felt her heart rise like a buoy in her chest as her smile widened. "Well don't give up on that first resolution just yet," she teased, using her wand to wave the door closed as she pulled Ron towards her.

* * *

Ginny sighed heavily as she wrapped a scarf around her neck and strode from the Daily Prophet office and into Diagon Alley.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate being able to fill in for Angelina's friend the past few months. Truth be told, she was rather enjoying it—going to the Quidditch matches, interviewing her old friends… it was almost as good as playing. And she supposed she was doing something right—but since when did all of that give her editor the right to assume what was best for her?

She new Ella meant well, but Ginny hated being judged by her current situation—namely pregnant and unmarried. As if that made her helpless or pitiable or something even more loathsome. Besides, she was hardly alone. And Harry _was_ coming back. And they _were_ getting married.

She wouldn't accept any other alternative.

But even Ginny couldn't refuse Ella's offer. She might have bristled but she wasn't impractical. Ginny wanted this job—as much as it had surprised her to realize that. So when Ella said that Ginny had been an impressive edition to the Games and Sports reporting team and they'd like to give her a full time position, Ginny couldn't really refuse, even when the one condition was that she start that day—with maternity leave.

With another heavy sigh, Ginny yanked the scarf from her throat. She didn't care that it was getting into the dead of winter, she was _hot_. She was hot _all—of—the—time_. And she was _huge_—like one of those zeppelins her father had tried to interest her in as a child.

Shoving the offending wool into her bag, Ginny's eye was caught by a young couple cozied up under the awning of a new shop that looked disturbingly like it could belong to Madam Puddifoot's sister. The combination produced a grimace on Ginny's face. It seemed as though everywhere she went lately she saw happy couples. She couldn't even go to a family gathering without being surrounded.

Distracted, Ginny nearly ran into a tall wizard headed towards her. "Excuse me," she muttered, blushing. Walking on, Ginny shook her head, rubbing furiously at her cheeks. _She was blushing?_ she asked herself incredulously. _Well…_ she reasoned, looking back, _he does bring new meaning to the phrase 'tall, dark and handsome.' And such a cute little…_

"Ginny!"

Ginny spun back around to find Melinda, one of Ron and George's employees, waving energetically as she emerged from the shop. Ginny hadn't even realized she made it that far down the street, though she supposed she could share her good news with her brothers, if she could call it that…

"Hullo, Melinda, have a good holiday?" Ginny said as the two women approached each other.

"I had a _fantastic_ holiday!" Melinda was practically bouncing on her toes. "Look what Marcus gave me!" she exclaimed excitedly, holding up her hand to reveal a sparkling set of diamonds.

"He proposed?" Ginny asked, remembering how long Melinda had been expecting that event and trying to sound interested but refusing to be _that_ bubbly. Ginny knew that Melinda was great with the WWW women's and girl's lines, and did excellent charms work, but the girl could be a bit over the top.

"He did!" Melinda squealed. "Oh, but Ginny! Just look at you, you're positively glowing! When are you due?"

"St. Valentine's Day, if you can believe it," Ginny said, barely repressing the hint of bitterness.

"Oh, you're so lucky," Melinda smiled brightly. "Well I'd better run, I'm meeting Marcus for lunch. He's such a sweetheart; he wants to meet me at that new café down the way. It looks absolutely adorable, don't you think? Anyhow, I'll see you later, I'm sure!" And before Ginny had a chance to say anything more Melinda had flitted away.

Pushing the shop door open, Ginny made her way inside. The shop was almost stifling warm and Ginny found herself wishing she had more clothing she could peel away.

Not seeing any redheads about the floor, Ginny made her way to the office door.

"Ah, excuse me, miss, do you require assistance of some kind?" came a vaguely Eastern European accent from behind her.

"No…" Ginny said slowly, not used to her presence in the shop being challenged. "I'm looking for Ron and George…" she said, unwillingly smiling as she met the young man's impossibly blue eyes.

"Ah! You are the sister, yes?" he said matter-of-factly. "I am sorry; I have just started here yesterday. I am Nicolas," he added, extending his hand.

Normally, Ginny might have bridled at being referred to as "the sister," but she found herself shaking his hand and smiling warmly, blushing again as he smiled back. _Blushing _again_, Ginny? What is _wrong_ with me?_ But "I'm Ginny," was all she said—and bashfully at that.

"Your brothers are at lunch, I believe, but Angelina is in the back," Nicolas said, releasing her hand.

"Thanks," Ginny said, shaking herself and heading once more towards the office door.

"Ginny! What are you doing here?" Angelina asked happily as Ginny swung the door open.

"Well, I have some news," Ginny said, relating the developments of her new, and now official, job.

"That's great, Gin," Angelina smiled, though it faltered as she struggled to read her friend's expression. "Isn't it…?"

"Oh, sure, of course it is," Ginny assured her, "I just…"

"You don't like being told when to stop by a woman who barely knows you?" Angelina guessed shrewdly.

"Gee, how did you know?" Ginny smirked.

"Excuse me, Angelina," Nicolas said from the door, "Aiden is her to relieve me and it is pretty quiet. May I go?"

"Sure, Nicolas, that's fine. Good job today."

"Ah, thank you. Can I get anything for you ladies before I go?"

"No, I'm fine," Angelina answered.

"Ginny?" Nicolas asked, turning.

"No, thank you," Ginny responded in what she recognized as an almost flirtatious voice. _Those eyes…_ Ginny wished for her scarf as she felt a flush creeping up her neck.

"Well that's a Ginny Weasley I've never seen," Angelina commented wryly after Nicolas had left. "Even when you were dating everyone from your year to mine."

"Oh, I know," Ginny said miserably, her head sinking into her arms on the table. "I'm disgusted with myself. You don't think there are male Veela, do you?"

To her surprise, Angelina burst out laughing. "I think it's only natural," she got out eventually. "You _are_ nearly 8 months pregnant."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," Ginny said darkly.

"Hormones, right?" Angelina pressed.

"So they tell me…" Ginny muttered. She couldn't help but think she ought to be stronger than this—than some wacky inner chemistry.

"Listen," Angelina said kindly, "my friend Lena, whose job you've been doing—her husband was always joking that she couldn't keep her hand off of him. Not that he'd normally mind, but…" Angelina trailed off, smirking mischievously.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "So what did she do?"

"Luckily, her mum had some home remedy—been in their family for centuries, worked wonders."

"Really?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"I'm sure she'd pass it along," Angelina said. "I could write her right now, if you like."

Ginny considered this, not being a huge fan of some woman she hardly knew being aware of her problems… _But this is getting ridiculous…_

"Yes, please," Ginny said at last.

"Brilliant," Angelina said, "you just sit tight while I find a quill… I'm sure George and Ron will be back soon, and you can give them your news yourself."

"Thanks, Ange," Ginny said sincerely, putting her head back on the table. It was going to be a long month and a half...

* * *

"George…?" Ron asked with confusion as he took in his surroundings. George was supposed to be Apparating them to some new pub he'd discovered, not the graveyard of Ottery St. Catchpole. "I thought you were taking me to lunch."

"I am," George said distractedly, "or I will be," he added, with a wave of his hand. "But I needed to talk to you first."

"I don't know about you, but I always thought pubs were decent places for that," Ron said, still confused. He was trying not to be impatient, but George had been acting strange all morning.

"About Harry," George said bluntly.

Ron's eyes widened, "keep your voice down!" he whispered, instinctively casting a _Muffliato_ charm.

"That's why we're here, you prat," George said deprecatingly. "Somewhere that we aren't likely to be overheard, but aren't… aren't unlikely to go."

Ron swallowed hard at this last thought, but brushed it aside. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Its fine," George said with a wave of his hand. "But what isn't fine, is you keeping me in the dark. I thought we were in this together now."

"We are, George," Ron said, his initial bewilderment mounting. "I'm not keeping anything from you."

"Oh, really?" George scoffed. "Then why haven't you told me what Kingsley told you and Gin and Hermione at Christmas?"

"I thought Ginny told you," Ron said with a furrowed brow.

"No," George said shortly. "I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but a week was my limit."

"She said she was going to tell you…" Ron trailed off, the concern evident in his voice. "Oh, bugger… Hermione said she didn't think Ginny was handling this as well as she seemed to be…" Ron sighed as he slumped onto a nearby bench.

"What do you mean?" George said slowly, his expression softening considerably. "What did Kingsley say?"

Ron chewed his lip before meeting his brother's eyes. "It's not going well, George," he said at last. "Despite all of their efforts, these new Death Eater groups keep springing up—you've seen the papers, there's suspicious activity every day. Harry's getting closer to the leaders, but… but that night at Andromeda's—it set him back. And now he's gone dark on contact with Sterdem because it was getting too dangerous—so even the Aurors don't know where he is or how he's doing."

George didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes unconsciously finding the tombstone he knew wasn't far away. "So Ginny didn't want to tell me because she doesn't want to face it," George said quietly.

"I guess so," Ron agreed. "And I think… well, when Harry decided to sever contact with the Ministry was just after his surprise visit to the house. I think Gin blames herself a little bit, no matter how much I tell her it's not unusual in cases like these."

"Ah…" George said with understanding. "I'm sorry I jumped on you," he added.

"Don't worry about it," Ron sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't… I don't know, talk to you about it. I guess… I guess I haven't wanted to think too much about it either."

"Is it really not that unusual?" George asked, just the smallest sliver of doubt in his voice. Ron didn't miss it.

"No, not entirely," he said, finding that same block of marble George had found moments before. It wasn't exactly a lie, but Ron still couldn't quite bring himself to resist the urge to protect them all from the uncertainty he felt in his own heart.

The brothers had sat in silence for a few minutes when a roll of parchment was dropped into Ron's lap by what he recognized as one of the Ministry owls. Ron tore it open quickly and scanned the letter.

"What is it?" George asked at the worry lines deepening in his brother's face.

"Hermione… something's come up at work… she's asking me to come home straight away, and bring you if you're still with me." Ron said quickly, running over the possibilities in his mind.

George stood, holding his hand out to Ron. "Lead the way little brother."

* * *

Ron and George entered Grimmauld Place to find Hermione waiting in the foyer with a small knapsack, and Ginny plopped unceremoniously on the stairs.

"Did something happen?" Ron asked without preamble.

"There's been another attack on a Wizarding family…" Hermione said evenly enough, though Ron noticed the tremor in her lower jaw that gave her away and went to her side. She squeezed his hand appreciatively.

"Anyone we know?" George asked, careful to keep his voice level.

"No, I don't think so…" Hermione said. "They didn't manage to kill anyone, thank Merlin," she added, "though two of them are in St. Mungo's in pretty bad shape—the little girl is only three," she said in disgust as her hand tightened in Ron's. He saw Ginny's hand flit over her stomach momentarily.

"Are you going somewhere, then?" Ron asked at last when his eyes fell on Hermione's bag once more.

"They've caught two of the attackers this time. And a house elf…" Hermione said, her eyes narrowing. "It's all very strange, but they want a few lawyers on base at Azkaban for the next couple of days while they start the interrogations. And considering my experience with the house elves in particular…"

"Well that's flattering, at least," Ron said, forcing himself to ignore his dislike of Hermione being in a room with Death Eaters—even if they were restrained prisoners.

"Yes…" she said, smiling sadly up at Ron. He knew she could tell how much he didn't like it. "So I'll be gone for a couple of days—but reachable, of course, if you need me."

Ron pulled Hermione to him and kissed her head briefly. "Be careful," he said in a low voice.

"Always," she said with a long look before turning back to Ginny and George. "But before I go," she said with the slightest hesitation, "I want to tell you all something I've been thinking about… I think," she went on when no one said anything, "I think we should tell the family about Harry."

Silence followed Hermione's pronouncement but all Ron felt was relief. It was something he'd been thinking about for awhile now, especially since their talk with Kingsley over the holidays. It was something they'd all wanted—since the beginning—but considerations for Harry's safety and respect for his confidence had generally won out in their endlessly circular arguments. George being the exception.

"Well, I agree," George said finally, as Hermione shot him a grateful look. "As much as I didn't like it, I understand why you all felt you had to keep it to yourselves before… but things… things are getting worse out there. This family isn't exactly known for standing on the sidelines—and we're always stronger together right? Besides, I think most of them have figured some of it out anyway."

"Ron?" asked Ginny, who had been unusually silent up to this point.

Ron searched his sister's face, but it was impassive. "I agree with George," he said, "and Hermione."

Ginny nodded and didn't say anything else.

"Good, well… that was easier than I thought," Hermione said with a nervous laugh.

Ron agreed with that too, considering the arguments that usually wound their way into such conversations. But he supposed it spoke to the feeling of defeat he felt swirling in the room—and though Ron knew they kept a lot to themselves in their school years, so much secrecy this time around… it just felt wrong.

"Will you be home by Sunday?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I should be," Hermione answered.

"We'll cook a family dinner, have everyone over here, and… tell them," Ron said, the feeling of a long-awaited reprieve steadily growing.

"Good," Hermione said again. "Alright, well, my boss is expecting me. I guess I'd better go," she added heavily with a long look at Ron before turning to Ginny.

"I put a few Muggle remedies in your room for what you've been… going through," Hermione said quietly to Ginny, in what Ron found to be a rather cryptic manner. Yet Ginny seemed to understand as her eyes grew just slightly wider.

"How did you…?" Ginny questioned.

"I _am_ your best friend, aren't I?" Hermione said with a small smile. "There's not much you're going to get past me."

"I wasn't exactly trying to, I was just…" Ginny said, somewhat guiltily.

"I know," Hermione said, giving her a long hug. "Oh—if you don't know what batteries are, just ask your dad, I've seen some around his shed."

Now Ron was heartily confused, as was Ginny by the looks of it, but she thanked Hermione again with a smile that Ron wished his sister wore more often.

"George," Hermione said as she and her brother-in-law embraced briefly. Ron just barely heard her whisper thank you in George's good ear before they pulled apart.

Picking up her bag, Ron followed Hermione out onto the porch. "You'll give Teddy a hug for me?" Hermione said, biting her lip.

"Of course," Ron agreed, "I'll deliver it as soon as Fleur drops him off tonight."

"Thanks," Hermione let in a small smile, but seemed unwilling to move farther from the stoop. "I'll just be gone for a couple of days…"

Ron lifted a corner of his mouth in a half-smile. "I know," he said quietly. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," he tried to reassure her, even if the prospect of facing even a few days without her put a lump in his throat.

"I know you will," she said warmly, "I'm so proud of you—with Ginny, and George…"

Ron raised his eyebrows, not really sure what she thought he'd done. Then he remembered they hadn't talked about his and George's conversation. For a moment he considered not mentioning it until she got back—try to keep her worrying at a minimum. Yet apparently Ron hesitated too long because she was now looking at him with that quizzical look that told him he wasn't going to be getting away without speaking his mind. "You were right about Ginny—with Harry, and what Kingsley said," Ron admitted.

Hermione worried her lip. "I thought so… Well… what else can we do? Ginny does things in her own time, doesn't she?" she said dryly.

"That's true," Ron said with a small snort. "But thanks… for suggesting that, about telling the family. I hope we didn't wait too long…"

"I think we did the right thing…" Hermione said slowly, "it was… a bad situation, all around. But this seems like the right thing now."

"You're so smart," Ron said with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes as he kissed her forehead. "The Ministry team will be lucky to have your help today."

Hermione's lip twitched as she let out a long breath and clung to him, kissing him softly before turning and Disapparating away.

Ron watched where she had stood for a moment before taking a deep breath and went back inside. Stepping through the door he caught the tail end of a conversation between George and Ginny and immediately wished he good step back out.

"…if there's one thing Harry is, it's a bloody good Auror," George was saying steadily. Ginny, for her part, nodded grudgingly but didn't seem very receptive.

George sighed and turned to Ron. "I should get back to the shop before Ange starts to wonder where we've gotten to… Will you come by later, Ron?" he added with a significant look that Ginny, thankfully, couldn't see.

"Sure, just let me get a few things together here," Ron responded carefully.

"Good. I'll see you both later, then," George said with a last squeeze at Ginny's elbow before he headed out the door.

Ron stood for a moment across from his sister, who simply stared at the floor.

"So I guess it's just you and me, then," Ron said into the void, shifting on his feet.

"Mm," Ginny nodded.

Ron was struck by how… _forlorn_ she looked. Risking the possibility that she'd push him away, Ron took a few steps forward and tentatively wrapped his arms around her. It was all he could do not to let out a sigh of relief when she not only didn't push him away, but hugged him back.

The siblings stood in companionable silence for a moment before Ginny let out a small, sniffling laugh. "I'm glad you have long arms, it makes me not feel so much like one of Hagrid's giant pumpkins."

Ron laughed appreciatively, glad his lanky form was good for something, at least. Yet he was sobered by the growing damp across his jumper.

"I don't think I can go through another war, Ron. I can't do it," Ginny said into his chest, voice rising much more than she would have normally allowed.

"We're not going to, Gin," Ron said emphatically.

"How can you be so sure?"

Ron considered this. There were a lot of things he worried about, and a lot about recent events that seemed too familiar, but he still believed it couldn't get as bad as it was before. He had to. "Because I think…" he said carefully, "I think we learned. And Voldemort isn't around anymore… We're not going to let it get like that again. _I_ won't let it get like that. And neither will Harry."

"But it was supposed to be better now… everything was supposed to be _okay_."

"It is, most of the time… but there's always going to be evil in the world—it doesn't… I don't know, come out of nowhere and it doesn't just go away. Sometimes it just gets worse than others."

Ginny nodded while Ron pretended not to notice that the moist spot on his jumper was growing. "So what do we do?" she asked in a small voice so unlike her own.

"We get through it," Ron said simply.

Ginny nodded again, before pulling away and surreptitiously wiping her cheeks. "I think I'll go lay down for a kip," she said with a tentative smile.

"Okay," Ron smiled back, inwardly hating to see his baby sister so hurt. "I'll just run over to the shop before Teddy gets home and then we can all have some dinner, yea?"

"Sure," Ginny said, already halfway up the staircase, "and… thanks."

Ron watched her disappear as she passed the landing before running his hands through his hair and stepping back outside.

* * *

"So," Ron said when he found George in his flat over the shop, "is this going to require another trip to the cemetery?"

"I don't think so," George tried to smile. "But I think… I think it's time we started thinking about the possibility that Harry might not be back… in time."

"In time for…?" Ron asked, dreading where this was going. Even if he knew it was bad for Ginny, he rather liked avoiding admitting this problem existed himself.

"You know what for," George said, "she's due in a month and a half."

"Right…" Ron said, still wishing they could let alone this particular difficulty alone. "You're right," he said again. "But I told you, he's not… you know, available… and if he's not… done doing what he needs to be doing…"

"Well, I think I have the beginnings of a plan," George said with that twinkle in his eye that Ron knew from 24 years of experience either meant trouble or excitement or usually both. "Do you think your dear wife would help us brew up some Polyjuice Potion…?"

Ron knitted his brow for a moment before he felt his train of thought fall in line with his brother's. "That's… that's brilliant. It could be incredibly stupid, but that's brilliant…"

"I thought you'd agree," George grinned. "There's just one problem, I don't know how we'd find him…"

"Oh," Ron said, his grin broadening at the thought of doing something productive—something to help… something to help Ginny, especially. "Don't worry about that. I think I have an idea."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with me on what sometimes feels like a marathon ride! I know that last part is a little open-ended, but I promise all will be answered in good time (and hopefully considerably less time than usual). So thanks again for reading—please let me know what you thought!**


	9. February 2nd, 2005

**A/N: Well, if you're still reading this, you have my most sincere thanks! I feel terribly that it has taken me so long to work on it, but we are nearing the end… If you need a refresher, see the summary at the start of the last chapter and perhaps the last section of the last chapter (the bit about Ron and George formulating a mysterious plan concerning Harry's presence at his child's birth) for most of the pertinent details. At any rate, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Nine: February 2nd, 2005

_You can make those promises with just as much passion the second time around. Such is the regenerative power of the human heart. ~_Marion Wink

* * *

Ginny stumbled blearily down the stairs, clutching a hand to her back—it had been bothering her all night. Clutching her dressing gown in the other hand she stepped into the kitchen, eyes immediately flying to the kettle and wishing she could have a cup of tea. With a sigh, she set herself down at the table with a glass of juice before her gaze fell on the newly delivered Daily Prophet just under the window sill.

With some effort, Ginny pulled herself up only to stoop down for the paper. Standing, she scanned the headlines, and very nearly dropped the periodical right where she'd found it.

Scarcely daring to breath, Ginny flew back up the stairs as fast as her swollen abdomen would allow. Fingers closed tightly around the Prophet, Ginny ran into Ron and Hermione's room without bothering to knock.

"_Wake up!_" Ginny hissed insistently, shaking her brother and friend awake. "Get up, get up, _get up…_!" she cried again, more loudly.

"Wha…?" Ron said groggily from the mattress, slowly pushing his fringe from his eyes.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, barely stifling a yawn and pushing herself from her pillow. Taking another moment to register her surroundings, Hermione instantly became more awake. "Ginny!" she said again, almost as if seeing her friend for the first time. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

Seemingly alerted by his wife's startled tone, Ron scrambled up as well and instinctively grabbed for his wand.

"This!" Ginny practically shrieked, eyes tight. "Look at this!" she added, setting the paper firmly in Hermione's lap and pointing at the main headline.

"_Sinister Plot Uncovered_," Hermione read aloud, voice receding as she scanned the rest of the article. "B-but," she sputtered, "they've been caught then? The new Death Eaters?"

"It certainly looks that way," Ginny said, hardly able to contain her burgeoning excitement. "I recognized him first," she said, pointing. "Isn't that the man whose house you'd gone into—for the elf? The man leading them at—at Teddy's house?" she faltered, glancing at Ron uncertainly.

A cloud passed over Ron's features as he frowned. "That's Lorhan alright…" he said darkly, peering over Hermione's shoulder.

"So," Ginny rushed on, her smile widening as her hands shook with pent-up energy, "that's it then, isn't it? It's done! Harry's coming home!"

"Ginny…" Hermione said, with such sadness that Ginny felt as though her voice had punctured her excitement like a needle to a balloon. "Gin," she said again, "the article goes on to say that they don't feel they've caught the top leaders just yet. I don't think we can assume anything…"

"No," Ginny said firmly, "no, this has to be it. It just _has_ to be, I—"

"Ginny—" Ron interrupted, but she cut right back.

"Don't say it Ron," Ginny said warningly, gripping the footboard as a spasm of what she thought was anger and the threat of disappointment rushed through her spine. "Don't say he's not coming back now, I _know_ he is," she said emphatically as she sent up a much less self-assured thought, _Please, please let him come back to me now…_

"No, Ginny, I, erm…" Ron stumbled, pointing uncomfortably at the floor.

Hermione pulled herself forward to see where he was indicating, her face growing pale. "Oh…" was all she managed to say, momentarily shocked beyond action.

Ginny stared at the pair of them for a full thirty seconds, completely exasperated, before she noticed a cold and wet feeling washing over her toes. "Oh, bollocks," she breathed, "not today…"

"Okay, Ginny," Hermione said calmly, coming to her senses, "it looks like your water broke. Now there's nothing to worry about, we've got everything under control, we'll just—"

Icy fear gripped Ginny as she snatched the paper to her, reading the date. "But it's two weeks early! It's not time!" she said, feeling her heart racing ever faster.

"Nonsense," Hermione said, gripping her friend's shoulders. "I'm sure you've just been under stress and the news didn't help. Two weeks is nothing, the baby will be fine as long as we get you taken care of, okay?"

"How do you know?" Ginny said skeptically.

"This is _me_ you're talking to," Hermione said with a barely managed grin, "I read up on it."

Ginny nodded, eyes growing wide. "I'm having a baby…" she said, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you are," Hermione said. "Now just make your way carefully down the stairs and we'll get your bag and wake Teddy and meet you there in just a moment, alright?"

"Okay," Ginny said, audibly swallowing. She felt all coherent thought had escaped her and was slowly being replaced by sharp pains and a persistent mantra: _I'm having this baby and Harry isn't here…_

* * *

Ron emerged from the bathroom, hopping into a pair of old jeans as Ginny left the room. "Is it really okay—being two weeks early?" he asked as he pulled out a jumper for himself and one for Hermione.

"I don't know…" Hermione said, worrying her lip between her teeth. "A lot of things could happen."

"Well," Ron said, unable to not be slightly impressed, "I didn't realize you'd become such a good liar."

Hermione blushed, swatting his arm. "She has to calm down or none of this will go properly. Especially with this…" she added, waving a hand at the abandoned Prophet.

"Right, _that_…" Ron said, eyeing the moving portraits of twenty or so of the arrested men and women. "Maybe we won't need to enact our plan after all."

"I don't know…" Hermione said again. "Harry wouldn't leave the job half done if he had a choice."

Ron knew this was true, but he so wanted it all to be over, once and for all. "No, he wouldn't," he agreed after a pause.

Hurrying to grab Ginny's already packed bag and rouse Teddy from his sleep, Ron and Hermione quickly made their way downstairs to find Ginny pacing before the door wearing a pained expression.

"Mum never said how much it hurt…" Ginny muttered as they joined her.

"I'm just going to alert the family," Ron said as he handed the bag and the still sleeping Teddy to Hermione with a significant look. "I'll meet you there shortly."

Hermione nodded, not missing the hint and already taking hold of Ginny's arm as well in preparation to Apparate them all to St. Mungo's.

"Wait," Ginny said at the last moment, taking hold of Ron's hand. "Will you find out about Harry for me? Please?"

Ron felt his heart twist at the look of desperation in his sister's eyes. It was so uncharacteristic—so lost. He nodded solemnly, knowing better than ever that no matter the risk, they were doing the right thing.

* * *

Ron made his way as quickly as possible through the crowded atrium at the Ministry, trying not to run into anyone who was bustling to and fro. The morning's news had obviously set the entire building aflutter.

Arriving at the Minister's outer office, Ron was gratified to see Percy already at his desk.

"Perce!" Ron called as he rushed in, sidestepping a haggard-looking witch directing a large stack of files with her wand. "I need to see Kingsley straight away," Ron panted, slightly out of breath as he came to a stop in front of his brother's neatly ordered desk.

"Ron!" Percy said with a hint of surprise, though he immediately took on that chastising look he did so well. "If you've seen the papers, or really had your eyes open coming through here this morning, I think you'll understand that the Minister is quite busy this morning."

"I _know_ that, Percy," Ron ground out, not wanting to lose his patience, "that's sort of why I'm here. Ginny's gone into labor."

"What?" Percy exclaimed, quickly jumping to his feet. Ron could practically see him thinking hard, quickly assessing the changes that would need to be made to the family's plan for this particular day. "Well, I'll…" Percy started, glancing at the door behind him, "I'll get you in immediately…" he finished, taking off into the inner office.

Ron watched him go, realizing he wasn't sure he had known how much Percy had changed. After all, there was a time when he would never have put family before his job as he was doing now. Ron knew it wasn't just out of convenience that he and George had included the family in this scheme of there's—they honestly couldn't do it without them, and didn't want to either.

* * *

Hermione paced anxiously around the hospital room, trying to rub the goose flesh out of her arms. Molly had just arrived and was steadily trying to calm her daughter, who was alternately wrought by the pain of a new contraction and what had become a rather loud and fervent desire to see Harry.

"Shh, dear, shh…" Molly crooned, patting Ginny's forehead with a damp cloth. "Everything is going to be just _fine_," she added with a pointed look at Hermione.

Hermione, for her part, didn't miss the significant stare. She knew Molly was just as anxious to hear from her sons as Hermione was. Hermione had been impressed at how well the family had taken the truth about Harry a month previous, not least of all Molly. None of them had been particularly happy about being deceived, mind you, but beyond a few bruised feelings everything was rather back to normal. Molly had been the hardest to convince, not liking her children to be dragged down in such a royal mess. Yet Hermione guessed that it was Ron and George's plan to get Harry—calmly explained to some objection after Ginny had retired for the evening—that won over the Weasleys, Molly included, so quickly.

Another cry escaped Ginny's lips, piercing through Hermione's thoughts. The baby seemed to be coming quickly. Hermione hoped it would wait long enough.

* * *

"Alright then, are you ready?" Ron asked George as he stoppered the vial Polyjuice potion.

"As ever," George said with falsely bright tone.

"Okay…" Ron muttered, tongue between his teeth as he pulled the Put-Outer from his pocket and concentrated on making it work. When he was still an Auror, Ron had managed to gain some control over the device, but it always worked a lot better when he was searching for someone close to him. Luckily, Ron cared a great deal about his best mate—and the added impetus of his baby sister's happiness and, perhaps, her sanity didn't hurt either.

Within a few minutes a startling white orb appeared before him. Relief washed over Ron's body at the sight of it.

"Wicked," George said appreciatively. "What do we do now?"

"Now," Ron said carefully, "we let it lead the way."

Trusting the globe of light to direct him, Ron took hold of George's arm and Apparated them away.

The brothers reappeared in a dark and dingy alley that smelled strongly of rubbish and spirits. Ron allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark before snuffing out the light. Carefully picking his way across the cobble stones, Ron came to stand in front of a very dirty window lit by the flickering of a single candle. George followed close behind.

"Well, what do you reckon?" George whispered.

"I'd bet Auntie Muriel's best diamonds that he's in there," Ron answered, thinking hard. "But I don't see how—"

Ron was cut off by a crackling pop just behind them, but before he could turn, a sharp voice spoke. "_Don't move_," it said menacingly. "Just turn around slowly…"

Ron and George did as they were asked, hoping this man thought they were Muggles and wouldn't notice their wands straight away.

"_Ron! George_...?" the man hissed disbelievingly, immediately dropping his wand and stepping closer. "What in the blazes are you doing here?"

"Harry?" George asked uncertainly but Ron was already grinning.

Harry's eyes grew wide in the unfamiliar face and grabbed both of their arms, Apparating them quickly into the small room they'd been looking into moments before.

Harry let out a long and shaky breath as he sank into the single chair in the room. "You never know who's watching," he said darkly.

"You're alone here?" Ron asked, looking around at the peeling paint.

"Yes…" Harry responded slowly. "After I got that lot of wankers arrested this morning," he began bitterly, "the ringleader and his second in command, along with two or three other lowly blokes like me, escaped. We were told to disperse and await instructions, so…" he trailed off. "But that still doesn't answer my question," he said, seeming to come back to himself. "What's going on? And really, what are _you_ doing here at all?" he added with a pointed look at George.

"George has known about you for awhile now," Ron said carefully, feeling somewhat guilty that he'd ostensibly betrayed Harry's wishes.

Harry's eyebrows rose a couple of inches in response.

"The whole family does now, actually," George said nonchalantly. "You might have told us yourself, mind," he added with an admonishing smirk.

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. Ron was getting impatient at watching the wheels turn when Harry finally spoke, "Well, I suppose I'm glad you all know—I did want to tell you myself… Things have gotten completely out of hand…" he muttered, putting his head in his hands.

"Well, I hate to add to your stress, mate," George said in that light and mischievous tone that he and Fred had always pulled off so well, "but Ginny's in labor."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, his head flying up.

Ron sighed, wishing there was an easier way to go about this. "That's why we're here, Harry, so that you can go and see her."

"But—but I," Harry sputtered. "How is that even possible?"

"One of us," Ron said, brandishing their bottle of Polyjuice, "is going to trade places with you."

"No," Harry said immediately, "I can't let you do that, least of all today."

Ron felt his muscles tense. There were some days where he really did not want to deal with Harry's obstinate protective streak.

"Harry," George interjected before Ron could respond, "you're going to be a father today. You need to be there, for Ginny's sake if not your own."

Ron watched as George held Harry's glare for a full minute before it began to soften. "Is Ginny… how has she been?" Harry asked tentatively.

"She's holding up," George answered. "She's strong, Harry, but this has been a huge amount of stress on her. She rather likes having you around, for some reason," he added with a grin. Harry's lip twitched appreciatively.

"Let us do this," Ron said quietly. Harry turned to him, working his jaw muscles as if to argue before he let out an explosive sigh.

"Alright," Harry said at long last, "what's the plan?"

"Excellent," George said, rubbing his hands together. "We've got some Polyjuice here, so I'm going to put my hair—"

"Actually," Ron interrupted, deftly pulling out one of his own hairs and putting it into the bottle, watching it fizz and change colors, "I'm going to take your place."

"Ron, we _agreed_," George said threateningly.

"No, I just got tired of arguing," Ron said, sighing inwardly. "This was supposed to be my mission anyway, and I'm not letting _another_ person take that fall for me. Besides," he added, holding up the bottle, "it's done, so let's move on."

George narrowed his eyebrows darkly. "Why did you never mention that before, about the mission?"

"I don't like thinking about it, okay?" Ron said quickly, not liking the way Harry was squirming uncomfortably in his chair. "Now then, Harry, you'll take this and pretend to be me to get into the room. There's enough for two swallows, so you can get in and out. In the meantime, Hermione and Bill have agreed to modify the Healers' memories so they won't think it was you who was there. I'll drink some of your Polyjuice and wait here. Really, we're lucky this all happened today so I can just sit here alone. George will be waiting outside under your invisibility cloak, ready to go get you to trade places—I suppose whenever they contact you." When Harry didn't respond immediately, Ron added, "Look, I know you don't like plans being made around you, but just trust us, it will be fine—you need to go."

"Okay," Harry said, standing and trading Polyjuice and clothes with Ron. "Cheers," he said as they clinked bottles.

Ron had always felt as though his muscles where trying to crawl out of his skin whenever he took the foul concoction. He wriggled his toes as they filled into Harry's disguise's shoes, trying not to feel too disconcerted when his own mirror image appeared before him.

"Here you go, George," Harry said with Ron's voice as he handed George the invisibility cloak. "Don't hesitate when they come—get me immediately, whether the baby's born yet or not." George nodded once and went to take up his post in the alley.

Harry turned to Ron with a sad look in his eyes. "You shouldn't have done this," he said softly.

"How could I not?" Ron replied, equally grave. "Now go… _Dad_," he said with a smile.

At this thought, Harry broke into a wide grin. "Right, well, be careful." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Hermione flew out of her chair when she saw Ron's tall form striding across the waiting area. "Ron!" she cried, going to him. "Where's Ha—erm, George?" she asked hurriedly, hoping nothing had gone wrong.

"Oh, Hermione," Ron smiled, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug. It was odd, Hermione, thought—though it was Ron's long arms and sturdy chest, this was not the way Ron felt. _Ah…_ Hermione thought as comprehension dawned, _not Ron, then_…

"Harry?" she mouthed incredulously. When he nodded slightly, she felt her stomach drop. "So he stayed then…" she breathed, her worry mounting.

"You had to know he would, Hermione," Harry said with a sad smile. Hermione had to nod. Of course she knew, deep down somewhere… she just didn't want to admit it.

"Well, come on, then," she said, taking his hand and leading him to Ginny's room. She made eye contact with Arthur on their way, who was staring at them with confused and narrowed eyes. She nodded carefully, and saw he understood as he sat up a little straighter and then leaned in to inform the rest of the Weasleys.

Bill was already waiting outside the door. "Bill," Harry nodded in his direction, before mouthing a silent "thank you." Bill shoulders tensed momentarily as Hermione stopped in front of the door.

"Now," she said, feeling she ought to give Harry fair warning. "Ginny's a little delirious with all of the potions they've been giving her—"

"Is that normal?" Harry asked, his breathing quickening.

"Mostly," Hermione said carefully, "she's just a little early so they're taking every precaution. Don't worry," she added hastily, "everything's going to be just fine." With that, Hermione pushed open the door and followed Harry through.

"—going to _kill_ him for doing this to me, when I—_arghh_!" Ginny was practically screaming as Hermione opened the door. Hermione saw Harry wince, trying not to laugh at the oddity of seeing Harry's facial expressions on Ron's features. Besides, that was one of the nicer things Ginny had said about Harry in the last hour or so.

Harry stopped short when he saw Ginny and Hermione thought for a moment he might faint. But he seemed to take a deep breath and go to her. Ginny barely seemed to spare him a glance until he bent down and whispered something in her ear. Ginny's eyes immediately grew to the size of Galleons as she looked at him, obviously incredulous. Ginny's face, though drenched in sweat, had heretofore been free of tears. But now they steadily rolled down her cheeks and Harry smiled and tried futilely to brush them away. She gripped his hand as another contraction set in. Hermione couldn't help but smile as Harry's grin wouldn't fade even as his knuckles turned white with the pressure Ginny was exerting on them.

It was then that Hermione first looked over at Molly, who was standing patiently at Ginny's other side, a single tear running down into a wide smile.

* * *

"Hey…" Harry said softly as Ginny opened her eyes. "Welcome back."

"So I wasn't dreaming…" Ginny said groggily as she tried to sit up.

"No," Harry chuckled as he adjusted the pillows behind her. Ginny felt tears well in her eyes and for once, she didn't care. Just to hear his laugh…

"The paper this morning…" she said, a hazy memory of the Daily Prophet coming back to her. "Are you back for good?"

The look on Harry's face was all the answer she needed. She closed her eyes against the reality of it, turning her head away.

"I'm sorry…" Harry said, and she could hear the pain in voice.

'Then how are you here now?" she asked, eyes still closed.

"Your brothers," Harry said dryly, "are very resourceful."

Ginny turned back at this as Harry recounted Ron and George's sudden appearance at his hideout and the events since then.

"I can't believe they did that…" Ginny breathed, almost angry to have been kept in the dark and upset that they would put themselves in so much danger on her account. But then she looked at Harry again and her chest swelled with gratitude. "But then…" she started again as her whole body began to register a dull but resonant ache. "What happened?" she started to panic. "The baby…?"

Harry face split into an even wider grin. "He's absolutely fine; they just had to knock you out at the end is all."

Ginny's whole world seemed to fill with that one word, "He…?" she breathed.

Harry nodded again. "Would you like to meet him?" Ginny could only nod.

Harry stepped away from the bed and over to a small, hospital bassinette, stopping to pick up a small form ensconced in blankets.

"Ginny," Harry said softly as he laid the bundle in her waiting arms, "this is James. James, this is your Mum."

Ginny felt her cheeks grow wet as she looked down into the face of her son. "I'm a Mum…" she said disbelievingly as James took hold of her finger.

"Can you believe it?" Harry said with the same amount of awe as he brushed one hand over James's forehead and wrapped his other arm around Ginny's shoulders.

"James…" Ginny said, grinning broadly as the boy squirmed in her arms. "So you did name him after all."

"You were right, as usual," Harry said playfully. "But he still needs a middle name…"

"Do you?" Ginny mused, unable to tear her eyes away from the little baby. She thought for a few moments, her mind passing over the past few months. Her thoughts kept brushing over the memory of the Black Family tapestry, of staring at the hole where one particular name should be. "Sirius," she said at last.

"James Sirius," Harry said, a solitary tear forming at the corner of his eye. "Thank you," he choked out, bending to kiss Ginny's forehead tenderly. Ginny sighed contentedly and they sat there, a family, for as long as they could.

* * *

James had fallen asleep and Ginny and Harry were talking in hushed tones about anything and everything when a small knock came at the door. Not wanting to wake the baby, Harry went cautiously to the door, opening it slightly. George slipped deftly through the opening and closed the door behind him.

Ginny felt her heart constrict. _Not again…_

"I'm sorry," George said, avoiding Ginny's gaze, "but they've just sent a note forewarning their arrival. I reckon we have…" he trailed off to look at his watch, "fifteen minutes at the most."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I'll be out in a mo'."

"Okay," George said, finally looking over at his sister. Ginny, for her part, couldn't bring herself to say anything. "I'll just… be out in the hall," George said, handing Harry his invisibility cloak and stepping through the door once again.

Ginny waited as Harry made his way slowly back to the bed, perching on the edge. "I wish I didn't have to go…" he said quietly. Ginny nodded, her throat aching with unshed tears. "I promise you, it's almost over."

Ginny nodded again, and pulled Harry to her, kissing him passionately. "Just come back to me soon," she whispered against his lips when they pulled apart. "Come back to your son."

Harry nodded and squeezed her hands. "I love you," he said, pulling away gently and placing a tender kiss on James' forehead before standing. With a swig of Polyjuice, he transformed before Ginny's eyes into her brother's form. With a last squeeze of her fingers, he strode out of the room.

George entered the room as Harry left, standing tentatively at the threshold until Ginny noticed him. "Would you like to meet your nephew?" she asked with a watery treble when she saw him.

George nodded and made his way over. "Hello there, little guy," he said softly with a broad smile. "He's going to be a model prankster, Gin, I can tell," he added, "just like his uncles and his Dad."

Ginny nodded, trying to smile even as her face crumpled. "Oh, Gin…" George said as he enveloped her in a firm hug. She cried ever harder when she didn't even have the strength to hug him back.

* * *

Ron sat in the rickety chair, tapping his foot worriedly. _What is taking them so long…?_ For the hundredth time he checked his watch, hoping the men who sent the letter weren't the early type. Though truthfully, Ron wouldn't mind the chance to just have a crack at them himself.

Registering that they had two minutes left, Ron was on the verge of sending a Patronus to George when there was a loud Pop next to his ear. Jumping back and knocking the chair over, Ron was relieved when he beheld his own eyes staring back at him.

"Took you long enough," Ron hissed, but refrained from saying anything more when he saw the look on Harry's—_his_—face. "Harry, mate… is everything alright? The baby's okay?"

"The baby's great," Harry said as this elicited the ghost of a grin. "Ten fingers, ten toes. We named him James Sirius."

Ron beamed. "Congratulations, Harry," he said brightly as the two friends caught each other in a brief hug.

"Thanks," Harry said, "I still can't believe it…"

"Well believe it," Ron nearly laughed as he hurried to exchange clothes with Harry again and return his Polyjuice. Soon, the two friends were identical.

A flash of green light appeared in front of Harry for the briefest of moments before going out just as he finished transforming.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked, startled.

"That means they're coming," Harry said darkly. "You have to go."

Ron nodded, scanning the room for any evidence he'd been there. "Right, well… get this business wrapped up soon, will you?" he said with a small grin.

"I'm going to try…" Harry said tiredly. "Now _go_."

Ron pulled out his wand, preparing to Dissapparate. "Take of yourself Harry," he said somberly.

"You too," Harry said quickly. "And Ron?"

"Yea?"

"Thanks… for everything."

Ron lifted a half-smile and in a blink, he was gone.

* * *

Ron let himself quietly into Grimmauld Place, intending to go downstairs to the kitchen while the Polyjuice wore off. He thought he had about forty-five minutes or so left and he didn't want to frighten anyone. He sat with a cup of tea until he was confident that he was completely himself again.

Visiting hours at St. Mungo's being long since over, Ron made a mental note to go visit Ginny and his new nephew in the morning. His body finally registering the tension that had been coursing through his veins, he made his way up the stairs exhausted.

Ron pushed his bedroom door open slowly, hoping not to wake Hermione. Of course, he should have known she'd be waiting up.

"Hi…" he said, groaning as he kicked off his trainers and slumped onto the bed.

"Ugh, you're filthy," Hermione said in mock disgust as she picked at his shirt. "We'll just have to get these off of you…" she added coyly.

Ron arched an eyebrow but didn't protest. Exhaustion forgotten, he kissed her deeply. "It went…well at the…hospital today?" he asked in the space between breaths.

"Fairly well…yes," Hermione responded in kind. "James is…healthy and…adorable."

"Ginny?" Ron asked seriously, pulling back for a minute.

"Finally asleep, thank Merlin," Hermione said with equal gravity.

Ron sighed but pulled Hermione close again, intending to leave his worries behind if only for the night.

"Ron…? Hermione?" came a small voice from the darkened hallway, making Ron and Hermione spring apart. Ron barely stifled a groan, all the while glad he still had his shorts on.

"You can come in, Teddy," Hermione said, much more gently than Ron thought he could have managed himself.

Teddy shuffled into the room in his pajamas but stayed hesitantly by the door.

"Is something wrong Ted?" Ron managed to ask.

"Couldn't sleep…" Teddy mumbled.

"Why's that?" Hermione asked, patting the bed beside her.

Teddy shrugged but clambered up onto the mattress.

"Did you like meeting James today?" Hermione asked, prodding.

"Mmhmm," Teddy responded. "Harry was there too, except he looked like you at first," he added with a small smile at Ron.

"Ah, yes," Ron grinned, "Hermione will explain it to you tomorrow."

Hermione arched an eyebrow in Ron's direction but turned back to Teddy. "It was good to see him, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

Teddy nodded again, eyes trained on his knees. "They were nice… with James," Teddy said, scrunching his face as if he was searching for the right words. "Are you… are you my Mum and Dad now?" he blurted all at once, looking at them both with big gray eyes for the smallest of moments before returning his gaze to his hands.

Ron thought he could feel his heart breaking. He felt Hermione silently reach for his hand as she spoke. "Oh, Teddy…" she whispered, "we could never replace your Mum and Dad. But we love you and will always take care of you, just like they would."

Teddy looked over at Ron, who nodded. "That's true Ted. You have a home with us, as long as you want it."

A shadow of a smile crossed Teddy's face as he bit his lip.

"Alright?" Hermione asked. Teddy nodded mutely. "Alright… would you like to sleep here tonight?" she added tentatively.

Teddy met her eyes. "Okay," he said simply.

"Okay," Hermione smiled, moving over so that Teddy could slide under the covers between her and Ron. Ron lifted up the duvet so that Teddy could slip underneath, where he promptly snuggled into the pillow.

Ron smiled at Hermione over the small form, and she returned the smile warmly. They joined hands across the blanket, and Ron turned off the lights with a flick of his wand on the nightstand.

Though it might not have been what Ron originally had in mind, he had to admit there was something peaceful about laying here with Teddy and Hermione. As his eyes drifted closed, he tried not to think about Ginny asleep in a cold hospital room or Harry in a dark and lonesome alley, alone.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks, as always, for sticking with me on this. I'm sorry again for the abysmally long delay… I'm hoping to knock out the last two chapters this week, so keep an eye out! In the meantime, please let me know what you thought of this one with a **_**review**_**!**


	10. March 2nd, 2005

Chapter Ten: March 2nd, 2005

_Nods from the Gilded pointers --_

_Nods from the Seconds slim --_

_Decades of Arrogance between_

_The Dial life --_

_And Him -- _

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Ginny woke slowly, gradually letting wakefulness seep into her aching limbs. Glancing at the clock, she cursed herself for allowing her little kip to drag on so long. James would surely be awake soon and expect to be fed and she rather liked to be there when he woke up. Seeing his little features drift out of sleep mesmerized her every time. Besides, she wanted him to see she was there, always.

She never wanted him to feel alone.

Dragging herself to a sitting position, Ginny gazed at the little wooden crib her father had surprised her with when she brought James home from the hospital. It was the very crib she'd used as a baby, brightly polished after being tucked away in the attic for so many years. Placing James in it, Arthur had graced his daughter with a watery smile, marveling at how the sight took him back. Ginny could see why—James looked so much like her in almost every way. Though she could already tell his hair would have the unruliness of his father's, it was a shock of Weasley red upon his brow. The only other resemblance was the shape of his eyes. James' had the same almond form as Harry's, and Ginny had fervently hoped her son's would echo the emerald ones she missed so much.

Yet James' eyes had proven to be brown like hers. Ginny was disappointed—she had always hated her eye color. That was, until Hermione told Ginny that Harry had confided to her once that Ginny's eyes were one of his favorite things. At that point, Ginny wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry—a seemingly constant state of madness she'd felt couldn't possibly get any worse now that the pregnancy was over. And nevertheless her often foul mood persisted, only exacerbated by lack of sleep.

James, it seemed, was both Ginny's terror and salvation. He kept her up to all hours of the night and reminded her every minute of what Harry was missing and how she was missing him. And yet when she felt truly alone, there James was, blissfully unaware and uninhibited by her burdens and carefully built, self-preserving walls. But James, Ginny realized with a jolt as she shuffled over to the crib, was not where she left him…

A slightly irrational panic gripping her heart, Ginny rushed out of the room, flying down the stairs in search of James and an explanation.

Ginny felt a hopeful relief tug at her frantic brain as her brother's voice drifted up from the kitchen… "Come on then, you little monster," Ron was intoning playfully. "Your Auntie Hermione isn't home just now so you're going to have to make due with me…"

Ginny didn't slow, however, until she reached the kitchen door, at which point she let security and calm return her racing heartbeat to normal. In fact, she couldn't help but smile at an uncle's practiced patience as Ron bounced James around the small room trying to get him to take his bottle.

"There's a good lad…" Ron sighed as he sank down into a waiting chair. It was only then that he seemed to notice his little sister in the doorway. "Well hello, sleepy-head," he said with a grin that barely concealed his pity.

Ginny slid into the room with a raised eyebrow and took a seat next to her brother, running a hand along James's soft crown. He hardly noticed her touch as he turned his natural Weasley abilities for devouring meals to his milk.

"Quite an appetite, eh?" Ron said with a cautious look at Ginny. "Look…" he started hesitatingly, quickly growing to a rapid-fire pace, "I wasn't trying to overstep, but he was up and crying and you were just dead to the world and you've been running yourself ragged and I didn't have the heart to wake you."

Ginny frowned. True, she couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a proper night's sleep, but she couldn't believe she'd slept through her own child's cries. But something else was nagging her about Ron's statement. "What do you mean, you didn't want to overstep? Did… did Hermione say something?"

"Not really," Ron said uncomfortably, shifting James to the other arm. "She just said that you didn't want to be treated like you were incapable… I mean, I can understand that—it's never been like you not to want to be independent," Ron shrugged.

Ginny nodded ruefully—that trait seemed to be her downfall lately. "Runs in the family, eh?" Ron smiled deprecatingly. "I want to know I can do this on my own. But I just feel so alone… all the time," she whispered.

Ron stared at her for a moment, and at first, Ginny wasn't sure he would say anything. "You know you aren't, don't you? Alone, I mean."

Ginny shrugged. She knew her family was there, her friends… but without Harry something was missing. And James, little James… he didn't—couldn't—totally fill that void.

"Gin," Ron said seriously, "I know it's not the same… but we're your family. If we can help make it easier…"

"But sometimes…" Ginny struggled to find the right words, "sometimes I don't really need help, exactly. I can't have you all do everything for me… It makes me feel useless when I can hardly control anything as it is."

Ron's brow furrowed. He placed James' empty bottle on the table, conjuring a carry-cot to place him on before continuing. "I can understand that…" he said at last, eyes distant.

"It's not that I don't appreciate you getting him just now," Ginny said wearily. "I obviously wasn't in any state… I just don't know what to do. If Harry were here…" she trailed off miserably.

Ron twisted his mouth thoughtfully. "Well… why don't you go back to stay with Mum and Dad until Harry returns? At least it would take some of the pressure off, and they'll be there even when Hermione and I have to be at work—little bugger isn't exactly on a regular schedule, is he?" he added with a grin at James, squirming in his blanket.

"No, he isn't," Ginny agreed. "But I can't go back to the Burrow… besides, I don't think Mum is too keen on me at the moment." Ron raised an eyebrow. "We got into quite a row," Ginny admitted, looking away.

"Ah…" Ron nodded, "so that's why you came back so abruptly?" Ginny nodded. "What happened?" he questioned.

"You know how Mum can be… she practically begged me to come back with her from St. Mungo's and then she was just so smothering, like I was an invalid. I just lost my temper…"

"But we've all done that," Ron said in a gentle, if perhaps slightly nonchalant, tone.

Ginny closed her eyes against the memory. "Not like this… I practically _screamed_ at her…"

Ron's eyes widened but, mercifully, he didn't say anything at first. "Did you apologize…?"

"Yes…" Ginny said, nearly ready to sink her head into her hands.

"I'm sure she understands," Ron offered. "It's a, erm… a stressful time."

"That's what Hermione said," Ginny sighed. "She also said I don't like to have any help unless I ask for it."

"Smart woman, my wife," Ron grinned.

"I'm not all _that_ smart," came Hermione's voice from the doorway. She stooped to tickle James' stomach before kissing Ron hello and taking a seat. "Everything alright?" she asked, looking between the siblings.

"No…" Ginny groaned morosely.

"She slept through James' cries," Ron explained quietly.

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised. "Well, I…"

Ginny help up her hands before Hermione could say anything else. "You were right before, this isn't easy… and I know I'm lucky to have you all around, so…" she took a deep breath, "so I'm officially asking for your help. And Mum's too, if she isn't still sore at me."

"I'm sure she isn't," Hermione said kindly.

"No one's going to think any less of you, Gin," Ron said quietly. She met her brother's gaze then, and though it went against a deeply ingrained instinct, she thought that idea might ring true for once… She saw the truth of it in his eyes, knowing he'd learned that lesson the hard way.

Ginny nodded. "Thanks," she said to both of them as she stood and bent to pick up James. "I think I'll just go take a shower," she said. "We'll see you for dinner."

Ron and Hermione smiled before turning to each other to share the day's stories as Ginny made her way slowly upstairs. She cursed her hormones as her throat ached with unshed tears—that had always been a part of her day that she loved… and it had been replaced with the not knowing and the worry, having no idea if Harry had had a day at all, much less be able to share it with her.

As she climbed the stairs, the photos on the wall seemed to mock her, filled as they were with smiling faces and happier times. There was Harry and Sirius… one of her family when they'd been staying at the house… Bill and Fleur after Victoire was born… Teddy and Arthur… George and Ron at the shop… and Fred.

Ginny paused, momentarily captivated. Fred's grin was plastered from ear to ear—she'd almost forgotten how genuine his smile could be, no matter how he was feeling. She remembered when that photo had been taken. It was Boxing Day during the year she never thought about—his last. Ginny was sure he and George had been anything but their cheery selves; quite the opposite, in fact. Ginny could relate—and she was tired of it; tired of feeling this way, tired of being miserable. Self-pity had become self-loathing. And yet somehow, the twins—and Fred especially—had always managed to put on a brave front. It was always smiles and jokes and laughter with them. Ginny could count the exceptions on one hand—at least before the battle. She honestly didn't know where they found the strength.

Ginny shook herself out of her reverie as James stirred in her arms. She considered him thoughtfully for a moment, smiling even as tears welled in her eyes. "Come on then little one," she whispered, "there's someone you ought to meet."

* * *

Hermione shut out the light in Teddy's bedroom, remaining in the doorway to watch his chest rise and fall in slumber. It was compelling, somehow, and she couldn't break away.

"Hi," Ron whispered in her ear as he snaked long arms around her waist.

"Hi," Hermione replied with a smile as she leaned into him. They stood in silence for a few moments, just watching, before Ron reached around her and slowly shut the door.

"Ginny's not back yet?" Ron asked with a look at his watch. "She said she'd be back for dinner… Rather late now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so…" Hermione said with a frown at Ginny's open door. "Maybe she went to see your Mum."

"Maybe…" Ron agreed as they made their way downstairs. "What do you say we do one of those crossword puzzles you like so much before bed?" he added with a careful ambivalence.

Hermione managed a simple, "Alright," as she tried not to laugh. She knew Ron didn't want to admit it, but he seemed to rather like what his teenage self would have certainly deemed an exceedingly brainy exercise. And his wizard-informed answers to the Muggle clues were always amusing. Truth be told, as a girl Hermione had harbored the rather romantic notion of curling up in an overstuffed armchair with her future husband, Sunday paper in hand. She had a feeling Ron knew that as well, which only made her smile broaden.

They'd been struggling over a particularly difficult corner—made all the more tricky as Hermione tried to explain between bouts of laughter an odd play on words between a mobile phone and the American city of Mobile—when a deafening crash sounded from the hallway.

Hermione scrambled out of the chair and flew to the doorway, only to stop short at the sight before her.

There was none other than Harry, swaying dangerously as he groped for the banister, already having missed in favor of a porcelain umbrella stand. "Harry…?" she managed to get out as Ron came up behind her, equally stunned.

"Hermione…" Harry turned toward her with an unnatural smile. Hermione stood, horrified, as she realized that he was covered in blood, the largest visible gash protruding from his hairline. "I did… done… it's done…" he was mumbling incoherently.

"What's done?" Hermione started to say, even as she realized Harry was falling. She lunged forward just in time to cushion his descent to the floor.

Ron was at Harry's other side in an instant, face pale. "Harry… Harry!" he was calling insistently, as Hermione realized Harry's eyelids had fluttered closed. "Blimey, will you look at him…" Ron breathed. Hermione didn't want to.

"Ron…" Harry said blearily as the twisted smile faltered. "Ron—got them… got them… twenty-four…"

"The ringleaders?" Hermione questioned over Harry's prone form as she met Ron's eyes. "Twenty-four what, Harry? Twenty-four people?" she prodded, restraining herself from shaking Harry even as her own hands quaked underneath him. "Godric… you don't think even Harry could fight off twenty-four witches and wizards on his own?"

Ron met her gaze dubiously but then seemed to reconsider as he looked down at his friend. "Wait…" he paused. "He's saying something."

"Twenty-four… Har… Harbinger…" Harry was mumbling.

"Twenty-four Harbinger…" Hermione repeated. "Twenty-four Harbinger Road?" she guessed. Harry managed to open his eyes then, meeting her own with earnest.

"Where, Harry?" Ron was now asking, as Harry's body started to convulse. "Bloody…" Ron breathed. "We have to get him to St. Mungo's," he said, and Hermione silently agreed.

Harry grabbed Ron's wrist at this, however. "Liverpool," he groaned, jaw clenched.

"Liverpool? Okay… okay, that's fine Harry," Ron was saying, trying valiantly to keep his friend's head and shoulders still.

"Have to… have to get… soon," Harry was insisting. "Get them…" The spasms were getting worse.

"Harry…" Hermione began even as her stomach dropped out from under her. Something wasn't right—or at least, less right. "Harry, listen to me," she repeated, drawing his attention to her. "Did you get hit with a spell? Where else are you hurt?"

"Hermione, what—" Ron began, but she cut him off with a raised hand.

Harry looked at her then, and she could see the sadness behind the grimace of pain. "Polyjuice… pois… poisoned the Polyjuice."

Hermione's eyes widened,her mind worked frantically. "_Accio bezoar_!" she cried, raising her wand. "Why didn't you say anything before?" she practically cried as the small white stone flew into her hand and she shoved it into Harry's mouth. She'd never been so grateful for the Black's old potions stores.

"Had to… had to be worth… it," Harry struggled to say as he slid in and out of consciousness.

Hermione cursed inwardly. _Why does he have to be such a martyr every sodding time?_ "Let's go," she said aloud to Ron. "I hope we're not…" but Ron wasn't looking at her, but rather over her shoulder. Hermione followed his gaze.

"Teddy…" Ron said half-heartedly in the direction of the small form at the top of the stairs. The boy was as white as a sheet.

Teddy didn't move or seem to acknowledge them, but was staring directly at the red lines making their way down Harry's forehead.

Hermione silently shifted Harry's weight into Ron's waiting arms as she stood, climbing the stairs quickly to Teddy's side. "Ted," she began quietly, forcing him to look at her. "Everything is going to be just fine, okay? Teddy?" she gave up on any acknowledgement. "But you have to come with us now, alright?" Teddy shifted his head slightly before throwing himself into Hermione's arms as she lifted him and met Ron at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ron…" Harry was muttering again.

"Yea, mate?" Ron responded. Hermione could hear his voice trembling even if no one else could.

"'M af… afraid…" Harry slurred, echoing Hermione's own emotions.

"I know," Ron said, briefly searching out Hermione's face before looking back at his best friend. "But it's going to be alright, you'll see… Just… just hold on…"

Ron met Hermione's eyes once more, and with the slightest of nods, they turned on their heels and Disapparated.

* * *

Ron staggered upon the emergency Apparition spot in the St. Mungo's Casualty. The Healers swarmed at once, taking Harry from his arms and onto a waiting gurney. They were asking him questions but it was all a buzz to Ron, whose brain felt ready to explode at having to make Harry release his weak grip on Ron's wrist.

And then Hermione was there, taking Ron's hand, and the cacophony settled into distinct tracks.

"Sweet Merlin, do ya know who this is, Joe?" one of the Medi-wizards was saying. Ron was seconds away from biting off a snide remark before Hermione called after the retreating team pushing Harry away.

"Wait!" Hermione said breathlessly, catching the attention of a salt-and-pepper haired Healer who appeared to be in charge. He merely raised a harassed eyebrow expectantly. Hermione charged forward, though Ron could see the uncertainty and anxiety bubbling under the surface. "He was poisoned as well, in a Polyjuice Potion. We gave him a bezoar."

The Healer's other eyebrow went up at this. "Good girl," he said appreciatively before turning back to Harry and guiding him through the surgery doors.

Ron could do nothing but stare after them for a full minute before he was brought back to reality with Teddy's insistent tugs at the hem of his shirt. Ron automatically stooped to pick him up.

"Twenty-four!" Hermione exclaimed all of the sudden, seeming to snap out of it as well. "We have to get the Aurors."

"And the family," Ron agreed. "Try to find Ginny, too…" he added quietly, not wanting to think about giving her this news.

"I'll do that," Hermione said, reading Ron's expression like the books she loved, "if you try to get a hold of Harry's boss and give him the details… Or this could all be for nothing," she finished in a whisper, voice quavering.

"Don't think like that," Ron responded, pulling Hermione to him with the arm that wasn't holding Teddy. They allowed themselves ten seconds before breaking apart, pulses racing just slightly less.

The couple made their way to the line of Floo booths and Ron carefully set Teddy down between him and the wall. The little boy looked so lost, that though Ron knew he should be contacting Sterdem immediately, he couldn't. "Hey," Ron said, crouching down to meet Teddy's eyes. "I don't want you to worry, okay?"

"But what if—?" Teddy started to protest with the wide, haunted eyes that had been the norm after Andromeda's death.

"No," Ron said firmly, "no buts—Harry will be much better soon, and you'll be able to welcome him home." _Oh, please let that be true…_ Ron thought miserably. He didn't think Teddy seemed any more convinced than he felt, but when he didn't argue, he turned back to the Floo.

It took several minutes for Ron to get the Auror Head in front of his fireplace—valuable minutes in which any and all of those men and women Harry had risked everything to stop could be getting away. Needless to say, by the time Sterdem finally knelt by the hearth, Ron was already losing his patience.

Sterdem's features grew dour as Ron relayed what he knew. Several times he jotted something down with a red quill that Ron recognized as a one of the secure-charmed relays to the Aurors on duty.

Nevertheless, Ron found Sterdem's first actual question highly irritating and rather unnecessary considering everything else at stake. "Why would Potter go to you? Why not go to the Office or directly to St. Mungo's if he's so badly injured?"

Ron bristled, trying to keep his already frazzled nerves in check. "Does that really matter right now?" he asked with annoyance.

"I should say so, Weasley," Sterdem replied. "Or perhaps you don't remember protocol."

"Well perhaps _you_ don't remember your Apparition test," Ron replied, abandoning all pretense. "You ought to know where you're going, and when you're as out of it as Harry obviously was, I'm sure home was the easiest bet to avoid Splinching himself. Besides, if you were going to follow _protocol_," Ron nearly spat, "he might have been filling out paperwork until he bled to death."

"You're on thin ice, Weasley," Sterdem very nearly growled.

"I don't work for you anymore," Ron replied, ears burning as he remembered why he had always hated calling this man a superior. There was a time and place for rules, but Sterdem tended to follow them without discretion. "Now if you would kindly go attend to the mess you let my friend spend however many months fixing _alone_, I'm going to go find out if he made it out of your hair-brained scheme alive."

It cost Ron nearly everything to say that, but it was almost worth it to see the look on Sterdem's face as he pulled out of the fire.

Hermione was looking at him worriedly when Ron turned from the grate. "No one's seen Ginny," she said.

"She's not at the Burrow?" Ron felt his stomach drop several more inches towards his feet.

Hermione just shook her head. "I think we should send her a Patronus," she suggested. "She needs to be here…"

"That's sort of a brutal way to tell her, isn't it?" Ron asked hesitantly. "Besides, she won't be able to Apparate with James, he's too young."

"We'll just ask where she is, of course," Hermione replied, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Acquiescing to this plan, Ron drew his wand. To his horror, the wand emitted no more than a fine silver mist.

"That's alright," Hermione said placatingly, "it's been a long time…"

"It's not that," Ron ground out, running a hand along the back of his neck. _It's that my best friend could be dying in the next room… happy thoughts are hard to come by_. "It's just…" he started to say, gesturing to the door Harry had disappeared behind a few minutes previous.

Hermione had already produced her wand to have a go, but the little otter had hardly emerged from her wand tip when it dissipated half-formed. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she said in a low voice, setting her jaw to try again.

"Hold on," Ron said at the last moment, grabbing her hand. "Together?"

Hermione stared for a moment. "I'm not sure that's ever been tried before…" she said uncertainly. In truth, Ron wasn't sure where the idea had come from, himself. And yet he knew that even at the darkest moments of his life, she had been the one to provide even the smallest nugget of happiness. As he met her eyes, she seemed to understand that too.

Joining hands over Hermione's wand, Ron counted to three. "_Expecto Patronum_!" they incanted together. As if in slow motion, Ron watched as a powerful, silvery lioness slunk gracefully to the floor, awaiting their bidding. Hermione recovered first, sending the unexpected Patronus to find Ginny.

"Someone ought to do research on that… That was… _brilliant_," Hermione breathed.

Ron picked up the wide-eyed Teddy, unable to keep from smiling at the residual surge of feelings he'd received from the Patronus. "Wicked, yea?" he asked the little boy, who nodded enthusiastically.

And yet within a few blissful seconds of the lioness' departure, Ron felt the weight return to his heart. "Now what?" he asked quietly.

"Now we wait…" Hermione responded without looking at him. So they sat, even as George rushed through the main entryway towards them.

And Ron felt completely and utterly useless.

* * *

Having assured Ron and Hermione that she was just going on an errand, Ginny had made her way with James through the Floo to the Burrow. Her hopes that no one would be home were rewarded with an empty sitting room and a clear path to the garden door.

It wasn't that she was still avoiding her Mum—although Ginny rather wanted to save that conversation for another day—but she really didn't want to have to explain what she was doing here.

And so Ginny had quieted James and started the walk down to the village cemetery. To Ginny, the purpose of her visit gave the path a length it had never seemed to have before.

Ginny reached the edge of the graveyard just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, and she pulled James' blanket more snugly around him.

"We're here," she spoke quietly to the little baby, who cooed happily in response to her voice. "I'm going to introduce you to your uncle in just a moment," she began, voice catching slightly. "I know you probably think you've got your fair share already, but you were actually meant to have six uncles spoiling you rotten, not five…" she trailed off, unbidden memories floating before her eyes. "But your Uncle Fred—that's George's twin, you see—he died when I was still in school, in a great battle. So you haven't been able to meet him… There's a lot of people you haven't been able to meet, I'm afraid," she added quietly, forcing a smile to her face as James blinked those almond shaped eyes. "And when your Dad gets back, he'll bring you to see a lot of them. But I… I want to introduce you to my brother…"

With eyes burning, Ginny stepped between the lines of stones on a too well-remembered path. She came to a stop before Fred's marker and lowered herself to the ground. She sat for awhile, allowing the memories she'd kept at bay to wash over her.

"Hullo Fred," she finally managed a watery smile. "I'm sorry I haven't been to visit lately. It's no excuse, but things have been rather out of sorts lately… _I've_ been rather out of sorts lately… See, Harry left on assignment and then I was pregnant and everything has just been all wrong… But I guess you know all that," she stopped herself, forcing a deep breath into her lungs. "But that's why I'm here, so you can meet your nephew properly," she smiled, tilting James slightly in her arms. "So Fred, this is James Sirius," she stated. "And don't laugh—they were good men, and deserve to be honored. Don't think George won't name his first son after _you_," she added, slipping into the sisterly banter she'd so enjoyed with the twins.

Ginny paused as the leaves rustled around her. She started as a silver lioness wound its way quickly towards her. Not recognizing the Patronus, Ginny pulled away as the lithe animal made to nuzzle her shoulder. Ginny's eyes widened as it spoke in Hermione's voice. "Where are you? It's important," it said quickly, and Ginny could hear the strain in her friend's tone.

Frowning, Ginny pulled her wand and shot off a reply before turning her attention back to Fred's marker. "I still miss you, you know," she whispered into the breeze. "You were always good for a laugh," she managed a grin. "And I could really use one these days…" she sighed, eyes shifting to the stars in an attempt not to let her tears fall. "I don't know what's wrong with me…!" she cried in frustration. "I thought that I had been through the worst, and in some ways I have, but… I don't know how to stop everything from..." she struggled to find the words. "I don't know how _you_ did it _every bleeding day_. Where… where did you find the strength?"

"In each other," came a voice from behind her.

Ginny leapt up, startled. "George!" she exclaimed in astonishment, hastily wiping her cheeks.

"The strength, if you can call it that," George continued, making his way to Ginny's side, "was from knowing there was someone there sharing it with you, all the time. That's part of… part of why it was so hard for me, after…" he trailed off, looking past Ginny to the cold marble. "It's so much easier to keep your guard up when you have someone who could care less if you're putting on a brave face, at least most of the time… Fred and I were lucky, to have that security provided at birth."

Ginny nodded as George returned his gaze to her. She knew that what George described was what Harry had become for her, at least until… "And now?" she asked quietly.

"So now I find it where I can, just like everybody else. It's there, you just have to look for it," he said with a smile that Ginny only half-believed.

"George…" Ginny said slowly, as she recognized the hesitation in George's eyes. "Why are you here?"

George sighed resignedly. "We need you to come to St. Mungo's," he said levelly.

"We?" Ginny said faintly. "So that Patronus… has Hermione's… what happened?" she stumbled over her words, every possibility running through her head more frightening than before.

"It's Harry," George said, taking a step toward Ginny with a tentative hand outstretched.

Ginny instinctively clutched James closer to her chest as her blood ran cold. "How bad?" she managed to say.

The look in George's eyes was answer enough. "We don't know, but… not good," he admitted, hand at her elbow. Ginny had already drawn her wand.

"Gin, wait!"

Ginny glared at him, daring him to challenge her. She was going—_now_.

"James," George said by way of explanation, stepping back and holding out his arms. "He shouldn't Apparate," he added. "I'll Floo over and we'll meet you there."

Ginny wavered for a moment, but ultimately placed a gentle kiss on James' head and passed him to her brother. With a grateful nod, she left the graveyard behind.

* * *

It was an odd thing about emergency rooms, Hermione had always thought—in a place where barely restrained chaos was whirling around you and practically seeping from every surface, the people forced to wait within it were often unnaturally still. And silent.

And thus were the Weasleys now. Even the youngest seemed aware of the gravity of the situation. _How could they not?_ Hermione rejoined herself cynically. _It's written clearly across all of our faces._

George had left only moments before to fetch Ginny in response to her Patronus. He'd volunteered readily enough, for which Hermione was grateful. She didn't think she could bear to leave her seat at that moment. _Not when Harry…_

And so Hermione held Ron's hand dutifully and absently rubbed Teddy's small back, waiting. Simply waiting.

The all-business Healer from before emerged suddenly, eyes scanning the room with a grave expression. _Too fast… _Hermione thought with dread. _That was too fast…_

"Ah," the Healer said briskly, "you were the two who brought Mr. Potter in, yes?" All of the red heads in the room swiveled as one to follow his gaze to Ron and Hermione. "Come with me, please," he directed, not waiting for a response.

Hermione silently handed Teddy off to Molly and followed Ron—regaining her firm grip on his hand—into the patients' hallway.

"Ron and Hermione Weasley, I presume. I'm Healer Sheldon" the Healer said matter-of-factly as they came to a stop. He held out his hand and Ron took it cautiously. Sometimes Hermione forgot their level of visibility. "You'll be acting as next of kin?" he added. She also often forgot the general public's familiarity with Harry's family situation—at least on the surface.

_Where is Ginny…?_

Ron tilted his chin slightly in response. "As good as," he managed as his shoulders visibly tensed.

"Very well then," Healer Shledon said. "We've sealed all of the cuts and gashes but he lost a lot of blood. We're replenishing it, but our real concern is the poison. You said it was in Polyjuice potion?"

"That's what he said," Hermione replied, trying desperately to compartmentalize, to make her brain work. "He wasn't really all there, but given his… situation," she covered vaguely, "it would make sense."

Sheldon's eyebrows narrowed. "Well we don't recognize the poison, and certainly don't know how it may have reacted with the Polyjuice. I expect the bezoar you gave him saved his life… We're doing all that we can, but it's really up to him now."

"Can we see him?" Ron asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Sheldon said. "But don't be alarmed by his appearance," he added, gesturing to a door behind him.

Hermione hesitated. "I'll just go tell the family," she said gently to Ron, "you go ahead and I'll be right back." Ron's eyes widened as just shook his head quickly.

Healer Sheldon, who was still waiting for them to enter, watched their exchange. "I'll go inform your family," he offered, surprising Hermione with the compassion in his heretofore businesslike tone. "Talk to your friend, it will do him good to hear familiar voices." With that, he left the couple in the hall before Hermione even had time to whisper a thank you.

"Right," Ron took a deep breath, looking down at Hermione. "Ready?"

_No,_ Hermione wanted to scream, but she nodded and squeezed her husband's hand. Despite the Healer's warnings, entering the small room reminded Hermione forcibly of her grandfather's last hours in the hospital when she was ten. Harry was as pale as the pillowcase behind his head and numerous cords were pumping potions into his limbs. The still-raw remains of violent gashes were visible in numerous places, his brow covered in beads of sweat.

"Oh Godric," Hermione breathed, rushing to the bedside and sinking down into a waiting chair. She took Harry's cold hand in her own, her throat constricting as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

Hermione felt Ron come up behind her, silently conjuring a chair next to hers. Without looking, she drew his hand up to hers and Harry's. "We should talk to him, like Healer Sheldon said," she whispered, unable to take her eyes from her friend's still face.

Ron gulped audibly and took in a ragged breath. Hermione didn't look at him, but clutched his hand—in hers, in Harry's—ever more tightly. "Hi—" he cleared his throat, "hiya, mate," he said, trying and failing for a bright, confident manner. It hurt Hermione's heart to hear the wobble in his usual baritone. "Did you see the Cannons actually won a match last month?" he continued bravely. "It was fantastic. You… you should have been there…"

* * *

Ron shifted in his seat, watching Harry's laborious breaths. The little hums and beeps of wards and charms and potions delivery were weaving their way into a discordant melody around them as Hermione quietly spoke of the photo album she'd made Teddy for Christmas.

Ron wished Harry could actually hear her.

Hermione was in the middle of describing Teddy's most recent additions of pictures from Shell Cottage when the door opened behind them. When footsteps didn't follow, Ron knew it wasn't just a Healer come to check in and he wished he could look away forever—avoid the sight which he knew would greet him.

Sure enough, he and Hermione stood to admit Ginny, eyes wide in shock. They were a stark contrast to her mouth, which was set in a firm, immovable line.

Ron took one look at her and silently led Hermione out of the room.

"We're here if you…" Hermione said as they left, but Ginny just nodded brusquely, eyes trained on Harry's form.

Back in the waiting room, Ron found he could hardly think. Everyone asked after Harry, but Hermione did all of the talking, carefully skirting past the horrible ache that had settled in both of their hearts.

Time seemed to pass quickly and slowly and not at all. George returned, silently allowing Angelina to take James from his arms as he sat down, head already falling towards his waiting hands. The children began to stir restlessly and Percy and Audrey made to go home with promises of updates should anything change.

Bill and Fleur gathered up their own sleepy children, heads lolling on their parents' shoulders. "Why does Teddy not come home wiz us?" Fleur whispered. "'E can get zome rest, away from 'ere."

"But I want to stay with you," Teddy said plaintively from Hermione's lap, looking her right in the eyes.

"Are you sure, Ted?" Ron asked. "We may be here for awhile longer—wouldn't you like a nice, warm bed?"

"No," Teddy shook his head stubbornly. "I want to stay here."

"It's alright, Fleur," Hermione said tiredly, though Ron could see the warmth in her as she lovingly brushed the hair from Teddy's temple. "Thank you," she added with a smile.

And so it went—flow in, flow out, flow around… and nothing. Ron watched the doors to the patients' ward expectantly, willing something good to emerge.

* * *

Ginny could feel herself shaking from the inside, like a tremor that she could just barely clamp down on lest it devastate her with an earthquake. She focused on her hand in Harry's—the only thing keeping her still.

His breathing had ceased to be so ragged, but she wasn't sure she preferred the faint, shallow breaths he took now. "Don't do this to me…" she whispered fervently, "_fight_." _Please_, she added silently.

"Ginny, dear?"

"Yea, Mum?" Ginny said flatly, not turning around.

Molly came fully into the room, James cradled in her arms. "I think he's a bit hungry," she said with a weak smile.

"Oh, right," Ginny said, forcing herself to detach her grip from Harry to take the baby. "Was there something else?" she added, without bite, when her mother didn't leave.

"Ginny…" Molly began hesitantly. "Why don't you take a break for a little while? I'd be happy to sit with Harry…"

"I can't leave…" Ginny said immediately, softly.

"I understand," Molly nodded sadly, and Ginny knew that she did.

"Thanks," Ginny responded weakly. "And I'm sorry again, about what I said the other day…" Ginny looked down, focusing on James who was too young to see the shame in her eyes.

"I know you didn't mean it," Molly said consolingly, drawing up a chair next to her daughter. "But can I tell you something?"

"Of course, Mum."

"I know you remember when your father was here, after that awful snake…" she trailed off as Ginny nodded, a shiver rolling down her spine. "Well, I don't know if you know this—but I couldn't have gotten through that without you kids. I know you were scared, but deep down you still had so much faith, the lot of you… My own experiences had filled me with such fear…" Ginny nodded again, thinking of the uncles she had never met. "So," Molly took a deep breath, meeting her daughter's eyes, "believe me when I tell you we're here for you no matter what happens. But most of all, believe me when I tell you that he's going to be alright."

All Ginny could do was nod again as Molly reached forward to brush a single tear from her cheek. "There, there, dear…" she said softly, giving Ginny the time to clamp down on her emotions once more.

"We'll be in the waiting area if you need anything," Molly said, standing. "You don't have to do this alone," she added with a look only Molly could give, leaving the room before Ginny could say anything more.

* * *

James was asleep in a hospital crib when Ginny's turbulent thoughts were disturbed by another visitor at Harry's door.

"May I come in…?" came a deep voice with the accompanying knock.

"Kingsley!" Ginny exclaimed, springing around. "What are you doing here?"

"To check in on Harry myself," the Minister responded with a pained look at the hospital bed. "And to give you all the news… I thought you might like to know that his efforts paid off. The last of the cell he infiltrated were captured, having apparently been incapacitated by Harry before he sought help for himself."

"The leaders as well?" Ginny asked faintly, releasing a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

Kingsley nodded. "I know he'd hate me to say this, but Harry proved himself the hero once more tonight."

Ginny felt her throat constrict. _A hero…_ "What does being the hero matter if he doesn't survive it? Does history always have to repeat itself…?" she asked darkly.

Kingsley considered her for a moment. "I don't believe it does…" he said carefully. "Though far from perfect, the world you grew up in was better than that which preceded it, as is the one we have now. And there have been heroes that sacrificed to get us this far, sometimes paying the cost of betterment with their lives. But none of that is cheapened by the fact that they could not live to enjoy it."

Ginny thought of her brother, of the grandparents her son would never meet… "I'm sorry," she said at last.

"We've all though it, at one time or another," Kingsley said kindly, although Ginny could see the sadness in his eyes. She knew he had lost, too. "But Ginny?" he added. "Don't give up on him yet."

"I won't," Ginny whispered.

Kingsley nodded and shut the door behind him.

Ginny turned back to Harry, fingers subconsciously tracing the familiar path at her neck. She started when she realized what she was doing. Hands trembling, she slowly lifted the chain from under her shirt and unhooked the clasp. Sliding the engagement ring into her palm, she carefully placed it on her finger where it shone brighter than her unshed tears.

* * *

Hours passed and the internal tremors were getting worse. Every time a Healer came in to check on Harry and left with grim expression, every time James stirred in his sleep, every time Harry's face contorted in pain—every minute, it seemed, Ginny felt her body rebelling against her with increasing intensity.

It was late into the night when Ginny cracked. She stood up suddenly, pushing the chair back violently as it skid across the floor. Making up her mind, she strode purposefully out of the room and into the waiting area, where her parents, George, Angelina, Ron, Hermione, and Teddy still sat. "No change," she said to their questioning looks. An odd mixture of relief and disappointment washed over their faces as they continued to eye her expectantly. Yet Ginny walked straight over to the person who—aside from the man she'd just left behind in a cold hospital bed—understood her best without even trying, because he was most like her.

"Will you come with me?" Ginny said quietly, holding her hand out to Ron.

Ron, for his part, stared at her wide-eyed for a moment before taking her hand. Ginny didn't miss their mother's approving, encouraging smile as she led Ron straight back through the double doors.

Ginny sunk back into her chair when they reached Harry's room, the strength of her momentary resolve ebbing away quickly. Ron drew the chair up next to hers but didn't say anything. She knew he wouldn't, at least at first. She counted on that.

When she thought she had herself under control, she spoke. "Tell me he's going to pull through," she said, studiously avoiding her brother, eyes intent on Harry.

"Of course he is," Ron answered. "He's never let us down…" he added quietly. The underlying vulnerability in his voice, then, was what made Ginny turn.

Ron met her eyes resolutely and she felt her defenses, already so shaken, crumbling fast. "What if it's different this time?" she whispered past the lump in her throat, voicing the fears she didn't want to admit she had.

"It won't be," Ron shook his head.

"But what if…?" she started to ask as she dissolved, shoulders shaking with the sobs she'd been holding in for so long.

Ginny felt her brother's long arms wrap around her as she cried into his chest. And she didn't feel pitied or underestimated or so very, very lost. Even amongst all of her fears and doubts, she just felt safe.

Some time later, Ginny fell asleep, one hand in Harry's and the other in her brother's, too tired to feel anything more.

* * *

Ginny woke slowly to the feeling of a gentle movement on her thumb. She frowned groggily as her eyes opened on a still sleeping Ron.

"That… that ring looks good… on you," came a hoarse voice. In a moment Ginny was instantly awake, head swinging around to find Harry, a pained smile on his pale face.

Ginny's mouth dropped open—she couldn't find words. She felt as if the world had dropped out from under her and all that bubbled up was hysterical laughter. So she laughed, not even registering relief or release, only happiness. She kissed him, looking into his eyes as those deep green depths laughed with her, feeling her anchor drop back into her life.

* * *

**A/N: Well—it took longer to get this out than I had hoped, but I suffered from quite a bit of writer's block on this one. (Many thanks to Steph for your help with the beginning…!) There's just one more chapter to go to tie things up a bit… At any rate, I hope you enjoyed it—please let me know what you thought with a **_**review**_**!**


	11. April 2nd, 2005

An excerpt from Chapter One:

…It was that same day that he'd gone into work and received the news that it had all been for nothing, and all Harry could think was that he was—

"…scared," Hermione finished her thought, jarring Harry out of his reverie.

Scared was never a word he thought he'd use to describe himself. Even at the most terrifying moments of his life, it never quite fit—but now, maybe it did, and he couldn't help feeling like a coward.

"I know," Ginny said quietly. And somehow, inexplicably, Harry thought she did—even though she couldn't possibly know why he was feeling the way he was, he hoped that somehow she understood. He hoped that when he explained it to her, it would somehow all be clear—that everything would be better, for once…

* * *

Chapter Eleven: April 2nd, 2005

…_and for a second—for two or three or four seconds—heaven and earth seemed equally still… _~ G. K. Chesterton

* * *

Harry never thought he would say it, but after a very long month in the hospital—even if he only properly remembered about two weeks of it—it felt good to Apparate on your own. That was, until his still unsteady feet pitched him forward on the gravel in front of Grimmauld Place.

A mere moment before his face hit rock, however, a long freckled arm shot out to keep him upright. Harry smiled sheepishly up at his best mate as he took the proffered hand.

* * *

"You just had to Apparate on your own, did you?" Ron said in a voice that channeled his mother—a fact only softened by the wide grin plastered across his face.

"I thought it would be nice to do proper magic again," Harry replied in mock defense.

"And?" Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Harry admitted, "one day at a time, I suppose."

Ron's smiled at this, wondering if Harry could know that Ron himself had given such advice just a day before…

_George knelt heavily on the grass as he always did. Speaking softly… as he always did. For his part, Ron was leaning against a nearby tree with a casualness that hid the supreme tension coursing through his body from his head to his toes—as _he_ always did, when it came to the first of April._

_Ron had been surprised the first time George had taken him along on these days, just a few years previous. Now it had become something of a tradition—or at least a ritual, if the former implied something of happier note._

_George leaned back on his heels—Ron's silent invitation to step forward. "Hiya Fred," Ron said, clearing his throat as he addressed the cold marble, "happy birthday."_

_George bowed his head. Ron hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, all the while mentally slapping himself for still being so tentative. It wasn't the first time he'd joined George in taking this particular date as a personal day. In fact, it had become so commonplace that this was the one day of the year you could be certain to find Hermione working in the shop—their books were always so pristine when she left that Angelina and the others never complained about not actually having much extra help up front. _

_For several years now Ron had been woken at dawn by George to trudge down to the cemetery. Then it was lunch in a pub with Lee, and back to the Burrow in time for George to plaster on a false smile for the birthday party their mother still insisted on throwing. Not that she shouldn't, Ron thought, but all the same, Ron had surrendered to an inevitably hard day._

"_You know," George said suddenly, staring into the distance, "we may never have acted like it—quite the opposite in fact," he added, chuckling morosely, "but we were always proud to have you as a brother… _He_ was proud of you."_

_Ron's mouth was slightly agape as he turned to his brother, but George was still looking resolutely ahead. "You don't have to say that," Ron said at last, turning his gaze down to his trainers._

"_I'm not," George said quietly, but firmly._

"_Besides," Ron continued, ignoring his assurances, "there wasn't much to be proud of."_

_George turned at this, catching Ron's attention as he looked at him with a curious mixture of incredulity, pity and understanding. "We all have regrets," George said seriously, eyes drifting back to the headstone, "but that doesn't mean you didn't do a lot of good. And all you've done since… He'd still be proud of you. I am…"_

_Ron swallowed hard, training his eyes on the horizon. All he could do was squeeze George's shoulder gratefully, but it seemed to be enough._

_After a few moments, George stood and began walking between the rows of headstones. _

_Ron followed slowly. "So," he said, clearing his throat, "where are we meeting Lee?"_

"_We're meeting him later," George responded. "I want to go visit Harry first."_

"_Oh?" Ron said, surprised._

"_Well, he can't be at the festivities tonight… might as well bring them to him, so to speak."_

"_Sure…" Ron agreed, Disapparating after George, all the while thinking they weren't really ones to bring good cheer today._

_A few hours later, however, Ron and George were still sitting in Harry's hospital room. The remnants of a somewhat subdued game of Exploding Snap were scattered across the bed. The conversation had now turned to the shop as George detailed their upcoming product line._

_Harry was chuckling heartily at their ideas, his laughs slightly marred by the dwindling remnants of a wracking cough—a lingering side effect of his bout with the Polyjuice poison._

"_Keep coughing like that," Healer Sheldon said sternly as he came in with Harry's chart, "and I'll think again about discharging you tomorrow."_

_All three young men turned to stare at the Healer, unsure whether to believe their ears. _

"_Sorry…?" Harry said dubiously. "You're discharging me?"_

"_First thing in the morning," Sheldon said, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I think you're very near to over-staying your welcome."_

"_I should say so…" Harry said happily, though still disbelieving as the Healer exited the room._

"_You get to go home, mate," Ron said excitedly as he clapped his friend on the arm._

"_I have to tell Ginny," Harry said, staring off into space with a huge smile spreading across his face as he pulled over the express floo line connected to his room._

"_We'll let you get to that," George said, standing._

"_Thanks…" Harry said, distracted, before looking up. "I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow. And… happy birthday, George."_

_George nodded before heading out of the room, Ron close behind. As they made their way to the lifts, Ron noticed that George was smiling—a small, but genuine smile unlike any Ron had seen on the twins' birthday since Fred had died. _

"_It's great that they're finally letting him out, eh?" George spoke, noticing Ron's attention._

"_Yea," Ron nodded, looking away, "Gin'll be pleased."_

"_You never really notice…" George said as he stepped into the lift._

"_Notice what?" Ron asked._

"_Things getting… better. How does that happen?" _

_Ron considered his brother for a moment, the smile still present over a look of deeper sadness. "Slowly, I reckon," Ron said as the grate slid shut, "just one day at a time…"_

"Yea, one day at a time," Ron agreed as he helped Harry up.

"Ron?" Harry asked as he shifted his weight onto his friend's shoulder, using him for support as they started for the house.

"Yea?" Ron said, focusing on the ground.

"Thanks for everything you did while I was…"

The two young men stopped for a moment. "Don't mention it," Ron said seriously, something of a silent communication passing between them as a small 'pop' signaled a second arrival in the pathway behind them. "Anyhow," Ron added, an involuntary rush of warmth spreading through him as he looked over Harry's shoulder, "I had some help."

* * *

Harry followed Ron's gaze to where he was watching Hermione hand Harry's suitcase to the eager Teddy, who was still young enough to think that Apparition was immensely entertaining rather than a recipe for a queasy stomach. She quickly performed a charm to lighten the heavy load as Teddy dragged it up the path ahead of them.

Harry smiled as Hermione watched Ted run off, nothing but pride in her eyes. She seemed to notice Harry's gaze as she looked up, quickly returning his smile.

_You're good with him_, Harry mouthed silently, grinning as her cheeks flushed while her smile widened.

* * *

_Thank you_, Hermione mouthed back, beaming. She couldn't help it—it was unexpected, finding herself in the position to care so completely for another human being, but it was entirely welcome. It felt so right somehow, to feel Ted's little hand gripping hers with absolute trust and affection. She still had her doubts—even though Ron repeatedly told her not to—but the happiness was back in Teddy's movements, smiles, laughter. That was enough to make her feel she had done the right thing…

_It had been about three weeks after Harry had arrived—beaten and bloody—back in their lives when Hermione finally admitted to her mother that she didn't know what to do about Teddy. Now that Harry was back, she felt like she was trespassing on Andromeda's final wishes to place him in Harry's care. _

_Her father, who had henceforth been quietly reading his newspaper, suggested she simply talk with Harry about it. Hermione, of course, tried to reason that she didn't know what to say. _

_Truthfully, she didn't know what outcome was best, and how could she move forward without knowing the right answer? It was a big part of how she had always done so well in school—if she knew what she was trying to do or create, it was just a matter of execution. But this… this was a little boy's life—immensely more complicated than a potion or a spell._

_Yet the next day, after another night of tossing and turning, she ceded the point. And that afternoon she saw her opening._

_The Healers had finally decided Harry was well enough to get out of the cramped hospital room from time to time—an event he had anxiously awaited, much to everyone else's annoyance. He really was a terrible patient. And so that afternoon found Harry sitting out in the St. Mungo's inner courtyard with Ginny, Hermione and Ron, enjoying some tea in the fresh air._

_The conversation had turned to Bill, who was feeling as though the French had finally invaded Britain. Fleur's parents and sister were visiting for the Easter holidays._

"_He says his own children have turned against him," Ginny laughed, "claims he never should have let Fleur teach them French."_

"_Even Ted has adopted it," Hermione said, just a little too carefully, "Fleur's been teaching him as well, when he goes over for lessons during the day."_

"_It's nice of her…" Harry said slowly, "to carry on with his schooling, I mean."_

_Hermione didn't miss the way Harry looked away at this thought, and she couldn't help but think he felt the need to have this conversation as much as she did—even if he was equally reluctant._

"_Yes…" Hermione agreed. "About Teddy…" she began, feeling the wave of anxiousness rise in her chest. She instinctively sought Ron's hand under the table. He squeezed her fingers lightly, though his gaze in her peripheral vision was somewhat perplexed. All the same, his hand in hers was reassuring, and she took a deep breath. "You know Andromeda wanted him to come live with you, Harry…"_

"_Yeah…" Harry said softly, eyes cast downwards. It made Hermione wince._

"_I'm not saying it to make you feel guilty," Hermione added quickly, gathering momentum as she continued. "I'm not mentioning this because we don't want to take care of him anymore—because we do, _I _do. I don't want to go against Andromeda's wishes, and I don't want to fight over him. This isn't about who loves him more, or who has more or less time…" she trailed off, taking a breath, almost amazed at how much she had said—it had just flowed out of her, right up until this last point. But when she realized what she was going to say, she also realized it was what she had been trying to articulate all of this time. "This is about whatever is best for Teddy," she finished, searching out her friends' expressions. She smiled as Ron silently laced his fingers through hers, giving them a firmer squeeze—that was all the reassurance she needed that he, at least, was behind her._

"_You're right, of course," Harry said, meeting Hermione's gaze. She thought she saw relief there, but she wasn't sure. "You're _always_ right, you know," he added with a smile, which she returned gratefully._

"_It's about time one of us brought it up," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "But I don't think it would do anyone any good to shift things around again—least of all Teddy."_

"_You don't?" Hermione said, still feeling uncertain. It almost frightened her how much she was attached to Teddy, but she knew what she said was what she truly believed—she just wanted what was best for him._

"_No, I don't," Ginny continued firmly, though her eyes were soft, "he's been uprooted more than anyone should be, especially at his age."_

"_I can see how happy he is with you," Harry added, "how he looks at you as… as something like parents."_

"_Scary thought, isn't it?" Ron smirked as Hermione poked him in the ribs. _

"_Give yourself a little credit, Ron," Ginny said deprecatingly, though a secret smile passed between the siblings. _

"_But what about Andromeda…?" Hermione asked again, wanting—_needing_—to be sure._

"_When have our lives ever gone according to plan?" Harry shrugged. "If things had been different, of course I would have taken him in a heartbeat, but this is what happened and I… I don't see any reason to go back on that now."_

"_You're sure?" Ron asked seriously._

"_I'm positive," Harry answered, and Hermione could detect the sincerity in his eyes. "Besides," he smiled, "I think Remus and Tonks would be very happy to know that Teddy is in your hands."_

"_Thank you," Hermione said softly, feeling her eyes get a little glassy as Ron squeezed her hand once more._

"_Anyhow," Harry added with a grin, "I still get to be godfather, which is much more fun."_

"_I'm going to tell James you said that!" Ginny said in mock horror._

"_You'll forget by the time he's old enough to understand you," Ron interjected, laughing as Ginny stuck out her tongue in response._

"_That reminds me," Harry said, eyes brightening as he looked at Ginny, "we have something we want to ask you two…" _

_Ginny nodded. "Considering the circumstances, we didn't really get a chance to do this when he was born, but…" she trailed off, looking between her brother and best friend. "We'd like you to be James' godparents."_

_Hermione felt her face break into a wide smile, "We'd love to, wouldn't we Ron?" She almost laughed at the comically speechless look on her husband's face._

"_Of—of course," he stuttered, "th—thanks."_

"_Always with the surprise," Harry joked, and Ron, too, broke into a huge grin. _

_Soon, the four friends were talking animatedly amongst themselves again, earning strange looks from the other solemn guests in the quiet courtyard. Hermione felt her heart ease as she chattered along with them, marveling at how nervous she had been, and how blissfully happy she felt now…_

"Careful up the steps!" Hermione called after Teddy as he began lugging the case up to the door. "So, Harry, ready to be home?" she asked as she fell in step with the men who would always be her two most favorite boys.

* * *

"Absolutely," Harry breathed just as Ginny opened the front door for a waiting Teddy, James cradled carefully in her arms.

Ron helped Harry climb the stairs as Hermione slid past Ginny to help Teddy with the suitcase. Ginny, for her part, stood on the threshold, smiling almost cheekily. "Oh, I'm sorry sir," she said as they approached, "you look so familiar, but… it's just been so long since we've seen you here…"

"Oh, really? Well let's see if this jogs your memory," Harry grinned as he leaned in to kiss her deeply.

* * *

Ginny actually giggled, not caring in the least that she was not a giggler, traditionally speaking. Harrywas home—_home_. That was worth a giggle or two, at least.

"You two are on your own," she heard Ron say beyond her, which only made her laugh harder.

"I _do_ remember you now," she smiled, pulling back, "but I may need further reminders later."

"Oh, come _on_," Ron practically whined as his head poked in from the drawing room, "a little respect for my delicate ears."

Both Ginny and Harry laughed this time, as Harry leaned to great his son. "Hullo there," he said happily, with a look Ginny had come to recognize as a purely _James_ look. No one else received quite the same glimmer from Harry that James did, not even her—and she wasn't the least bit jealous…

"_If you can take your eyes off of him for a minute, I have something that might interest you…" Ginny had said playfully as she entered the room at the end of Harry's second week in St. Mungo's. He was finally—_finally—_staying awake for more than a few minutes at a time. _

_Harry eyes swiveled off James as Ginny slid the door shut behind her, setting an awkward bundle onto the bedside table. "Dad and George helped me smuggle in some of Mum's treacle tart," she said enticingly as she removed the tea towel with a flourish._

"_Looks great," Harry said weakly, gingerly sitting up straight, eyes already drooping again._

"_You don't have to eat it now, if you're not up to it," Ginny said, covering the trace of sadness in her voice. She just wanted him to feel better—now, preferably. But she would wait._

"_Okay," he tried to smile, reaching out for her hand. She took it as she sat on the side the bed, brushing his fringe from his temples as he drifted off to sleep._

_Ginny would wait until he woke up again. These days she lived for the moments when his eyes fluttered open and wakefulness dawned on his features. Even when it was only for a few minutes, that moment of recognition sustained her until the next time he woke. And if she was lucky, that next time he might stay coherent for an hour or two. Maybe more._

_Harry was improving—Ginny would have been sure of that, even if the Healers hadn't been constantly reassuring her. But it was slow going. She didn't really care, though. As frustrating as waiting around in a hospital might be, she felt much better having Harry in front of her instead of Godric knew where doing Merlin knew what._

_Harry had started to tell her—in bits and pieces—just what he had been doing while he was gone. She didn't press him, though, as he obviously didn't like to dwell on it. Mostly, he spent his waking hours with Ginny and James or the occasional visitor, if they happened to catch him at a good time._

_Ginny spent as much time as she could in St. Mungo's, staying there most nights. She woke up one occasion, about two and a half weeks into their prolonged stay to find Harry staring at James again._

"_Hey," she said groggily, "you're up…"_

"_I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, smiling as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear._

"_You didn't," she said, not caring that it was three in the morning—this was the most alert she'd seen Harry so far. She followed his gaze to where James slept soundly in a hospital cot. "He looks rather innocent like that, doesn't he?" she commented. "I'm sure he won't stay that way, if his uncles are any indication…"_

_Harry smirked in response before he grew somber once more. "I keep dreaming about him…" he said at last, not meeting Ginny's eyes._

"_Oh?" she prodded quietly._

"_About what his life would have been like if I… if I had…" he trailed off, looking at his hands._

_Ginny swallowed hard, willing her eyes to stay dry. Truthfully, she'd wondered that herself in the darker moments, but that wasn't what Harry needed to hear. "But you're here now," she tried for an encouraging note. "No use thinking about what ifs."_

"_But this is my job…" Harry said, finally looking Ginny in the eye. "And I don't think I can stop doing it—as much _for_ his sake as anything else."_

"_I know," Ginny said softly. "As much as I hate worrying about you," she said attempting a smile, "this is part of who you are. I wouldn't want to change that." And for once, Ginny felt truly at peace with the idea. If this was part of being with Harry, she was willing to do it. She knew she'd survive—she had so far. Of course, it was a lot easier when he smiled at her like that._

"_So..." he said playfully, "you'd still be up to making that ring official?" _

"_What, this ring?" Ginny smiled, not missing the hint of nervousness in his voice as she held up her hand. "I think we can arrange something."_

"_Good," he said, a tinge of sleepiness on the edge of his voice once more. "Just set a date and I'll be there," he added, turning serious, "I promise."_

"_I'll hold you to it," she said happily, smiling as she snuggled next to him into the small bed, this time drifting off together—just as she'd dreamed of doing for months and months…_

"Is that for me?" Harry asked, jarring Ginny out of her reverie as he indicated the large 'welcome home' banner hanging from the staircase.

Ginny nodded as she steered him into the drawing room. "Mum convinced George to hold off until tonight to give you the party that goes with the banner—said you were allowed a few hours to settle in, at least."

"I suppose that's fair," Harry smiled, even though Ginny knew he hated the attention.

"It won't be so bad," she chided. "Besides, we can get another announcement out of the way at the same time, eh? How does July 2nd sound?"

* * *

"Perfect," Harry said as his smile widened.

"How does July 2nd sound for what?" Ron asked as Harry, Ginny and James entered the room and settled onto the couch.

"A wedding," Ginny smiled as she handed James off to Harry's waiting arms. He still couldn't get over how small he was…

"Brilliant," Ron smiled as he set up a chess board on the floor, "that's just a month after ours was."

"Wow, Hermione," Ginny marveled, "you've already got him trained to remember your anniversary, I'm impressed."

"He remembers everything there is to know about the Cannons, I figure he can remember one date," Hermione grinned as she sat down opposite Ron at the chess board, Teddy on her lap.

Ron huffed in mock affront as he made his first move. "So Harry," he said instead, "want to come see the house Hermione and I picked out tomorrow?"

"Sure, are the movers—" he started to say, but Teddy cut him off.

"No, Hermione," Ted was saying insistently, his small hand stopping Hermione from moving a pawn. "That one's better," he added, pointing at a knight. The enchanted chess pieces seemed to agree with the young boy, being much more vocal in Teddy's favor than Harry had ever seen them.

"Well, I—" Hermione sputtered, as she burst out laughing, "I suppose you're right," she grinned as she moved the knight.

Everyone joined her laughter as Teddy turned, satisfied, back to the board. "What are you laughing at?" Teddy asked, brow furrowed.

"Nothing," Ron assured him. "Apparently I've been training the wrong opponent," he added with a sly grin.

The adults went back to laughing heartily, despite Teddy's protests. Harry sighed deeply as the merry sound washed over him and even James wriggled happily in his arms. He looked around at his friends and his little family and for a moment, everything was seamlessly connected—harmonious. _Perfect_.

And he didn't feel scared anymore.

* * *

**A/N: So this took far, far too long—my most sincere apologies! I have been rather swamped with work, but at least it's finally finished. I do hope you've enjoyed this story, I know I've appreciated all of your interest and support. **

**If anyone would like, I have been working on a series of vignettes covering a whole span of characters over the course of the Deathly Hallows—it's called **_**The Light and the Dark of It**_**. Other than that, I'm sure inspiration will strike somewhere along the way. Until then, please leave a review, and thanks again for reading! **


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